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FIRST  AND  FUNDAMENTAL  TRUTHS.     Being  a  Treatise 

on  Metaphysics.      i2mo,  J2.00. 

PSYCHOLOGY.     The  Cognitive  Powers.     i2mo,  $1.50. 

PSYCHOLOGY.     The  Motive  Powers,     izmo,  $1.30. 

THE  EMOTIONS,     i  vol.  i2mo,  $2.00. 

REALISTIC  PHILOSOPHY.  Defended  in  a  Philosophic 
Series.  2  vols.  :2mo.  Vol.  I.,  Expository,  $1.50.  Vol.  II., 
Historical  and  Critical,  jSi.so. 


PSYCHOLOGY 


THE  COGNITIVE  POWERS 


BY 


JAMES  McCOSH,  D.D.,  LL.D.,  Litt.D. 

PKBSIDENT  OF  PRINCETON  COLLEGE,  AUTHOR  OF  "  INTUITIONS 

OF  THE  MIND,"   "  LAWS   OF  DISCURSIVE   THOUGHT,'* 

"BMOTIONS,"  "  PHILOSOPHIC  SERIES,"  BTC. 


NEW  YORK 

CHARLES   SCRIBNER'S   SONS 

1889 


A"/ 


EDUC. 
PSYCH. 

msum 


Copyright,  1886, 
Bt  CHARLES  SCRIBNEB'S  SONb. 


^^  ^6^' 


The  Riverside  Prest,  Cambridge : 
Electrotyped  and  Printed  by  H.  O.  Houghton  &  Co. 


PREFACE. 


For  the  last  thirty-four  years  I  have  been  teaching 
Psychology  by  written  lectures  to  students  in  Ireland 
and  America.  From  year  to  year  I  have  been  improv- 
ing my  course,  and  I  claim  to  have  advanced  with  the 
times.  As  Uncle  Toby's  stockings  were  so  often  darned 
that  he  was  not  sure  whether  there  remained  a  single 
thread  of  the  original  fabric,  so  my  prelections  have  been 
so  constantly  mended  that  I  do  not  know  that  a  single 
sentence  remains  of  my  early  lectures. 

I  certainly  wish  this  little  work  to  be  used  as  a  text- 
book, and  would  thus  widen  and  prolong  my  teaching 
power.  But  people  say  "  dull  as  a  text-book."  In  phys- 
ical science  and  in  literature  they  illuminate  their  books 
(as  in  the  old  missals)  by  figures.  We  cannot  do  this  in 
mental  science,  as  our  thoughts  have  not  forms  nor  col- 
ors. I  maintain,  however,  that  they  have  livelier  fea- 
tures. I  have  sought  to  avoid  dryness  by  illustrating 
mental  laws  by  examples  taken  from  human  nature.  As 
general  laws  are  drawn  from  particular  cases,  so  they  are 
best  understood  by  concrete  facts  coming  under  our  ex- 
perience. 

It  will  be  shown  in  this  work  that  the  honest  and  care- 


IV  PREFACE. 

ful  study  of  the  human  mind  in  an  inductive  manner  un- 
dermines the  prevailing  philosophic  errors  of  this  age ; 
saves  us  from  Idealism  on  the  one  hand  and  Agnosticism 
on  the  other ;  and  conducts  us  to  Realism,  which  in  a 
rude  state  was  the  first  philosophy,  and  when  its  ex- 
crescences are  pruned  off  will  be  the  last. 

Following  the  example  set  by  several  distinguished 
writers,  I  have  carried  out  my  exposition  of  the  faculties 
by  instructions  as  to  tbeir  improvement. 

I  hope  to  add  to  this  little  work  another  on  the  Motive 
Powers  of  the  Mind,  including  the  Conscience,  Emotions, 
and  Will.  I  have  already  so  far  anticipated  this  by  my 
work  on  the  Emotions. 

I  have  to  express  my  obligations  to  my  former  pupils : 
to  Professor  Macloskie  for  diagrams,  and  to  Dr.  Starr 
and  Mr.  J.  M.  Baldwin  foi  the  exposition  of  certain 
points  which  they  have  studied  carefully. 

Pbikceton  College,  June,  1886. 


eOI^TENTS. 


INTRODUCTION. 

SECTION 

I.  Definition  of  Psychology.     Method  of  Investigation 

II.  Proof  of  the  Existence  of  Mind         .... 

III.  Cautions  to  be  attended  to  in  the  Study  of  the  Mind 

IV.  Ckxssification  of  the  Faculties 

V.  Education  of  the  Faculties 


PA08 
1 

7 

8 

10 

,     16 


BOOK  FIRST. 
The  Simple  Cognitive  cr  Presentative  Powers 


18 


CHAPTER  L 
Sense-Perception 20 

I.  Its  Nature  :  Original,  Intuitive,  Positive     ....  20 

II.  Theories  of  Sense-Perception :  Ideal,  Inferential,  Phenome- 
nal, and  Relative  :  Natural  Realism    ..... 

III.  Distinctions  to  be  attended  to  in  holding  the  Doctrine  of  Nat- 

ural Realism  :  Extra-Mental  and  Extra-Organic  Knowl- 
edge ;  Sensation  and  Perception ;  Original  and  Acquired 
Perceptions 

IV.  The  Senses  :  General  Remarks 
V.  Organic  Affections   . 

VI.  Taste     .         .         •         .         . 

VII.  Smell 

VIII.  Hearing         .... 
IX.  Touch  Proper,  or  Feeling 
X.  The  Muscular  Sense     . 

XL  Vision 

XII.  Our  Acquired  Perceptions 

XIII.  Apparent  Deception  of  the  Senses 

XIV.  Supplementary  Notes 
XV.  Of  the  Education  of  the  Senses 

XVI.  Knowledge  given  by  the  Senses 
XVII.  Qualities  of  Matter  :  Extension  and  Energy    . 
XVIII.  Ideas  given  by  the  Senses  ;  Externality,  Space,  and  Energy 


23 


VI  CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  II. 

8ECTI0H  PAGE 

Self-Consciousness 70 

I.  It  makes  known  Self  as  well  as  the  Acts  of  Self        ...  70 

II.  Sense-Perception  and  Self-Cousciousness  combined       .        .  .74 

III.  Substance 81 

IV.  Locke's  Theory  as  to  the  Origin  of  our  Ideas         .        .        ,  .84 
V.  Training  to  Habits  of  Keflection       ......  85 


BOOK   SECOND. 
The  Reproductive  or  Representative  Powbbs       .        .        .87 

CHAPTER  I. 
Retention 89 

CHAPTER  II. 

The  Recalling  Power  or  Phantast 95 

I.  Its  Nature 95 

II.  Chambers  of  Imagery 105 

III.  Ideas  Singular  and  Concrete 107 

CHAPTER  m. 

The  Association  op  Ideas 109 

I.  Primary  Laws  . 112 

II.  Secondary  Laws 135 

III.  Physiological  Processes  involved  in  Association       .        .        .  145 

IV.  Discussion  as  to  the  Law  of  Association 147 

V.  The  Rapidity  of  Thought 148 

CHAPTER  IV. 

The  Recognitive  Power 153 

I.  Its  Nature 153 

IL  The  Faith  Element 154 

in.  The  Idea  of  Time 156 

IV.  Memory 158 

V.  Improvement  of  the  Memory    .        .         .        .        .        .        .  15;t 

VI.  Does  the  Memory  deceive  us  ? \V>3 

CHAPTER  V. 

The  Power  of  Composition .        .165 

I.  Its  Nature 105 

II.  The  Imagination 167 

III.  The  Use  of  the  Imagination     .        .        .        .        .        .        .        175 


CONTENTS.  Vll 

SECTION  PABB 

IV.  The  Idea  of  the  Infinite 179 

V.  The  Abuse  of  the  Imagination 184 

VI.  Training  of  the  Imagination  .......  190 

CHAPTER  VI. 

The  Symbolic  Power ,        .  196 

I.  Its  Nature 196 

11.  Kehition  of  Speech  to  the  Brain 201 

III.  On  the  Teaciiing  of  Languages 203 

IV.  The  Training  of  the  Reproductive  Powers    .....  205 


BOOK  THIRD. 
The  Comparative  Powers 208 

CHAPTER  I. 
Office  of  the  Comparative  Powers 208 

CHAPTER  II. 

Classification  of  Relations 211 

I.  Relation  of  Identity  and  Difference 211 

II.  Relation  of  Whole  and  Parts 215 

III.  Rehition  of  Resemblance 216 

IV.  Relations  of  Space 218 

V.  The  Relations  of  Time 219 

VI.  Relations  of  Quantity 220 

VII.  Relations  of  Active  Power  or  Property 221 

VIII.  Relation  of  Cause  and  Effect 222 

CHAPTER  IIL 
The  Discdbsive  Operations  .....«•.  230 

CHAPTER  IV. 
Intuition  in  the  Discovery  of  Relations        ....  233 

CHAPTER  V. 
General  Remarks  on  the  Comparative  Powers       .        .        .  235 

CONCLUSION. 
Rise  of  odr  Ideas 242 


THE  COGNITIVE  POWERS. 


INTRODUCTION. 
SECTION  I. 

DEFINITION   OF  PSYCHOLOGY.  —  METHOD  OF  INVESTIGATION. 

Psychology  is  the  science  of  the  soul.  The  word  is 
from  psyche^  soul,  and  logos^  speech  or  reason.  By  soul 
is  meant  that  self  of  which  every  one  is  conscious. 
Science  is  systematized  knowledge,  and  when  we  arrange 
the  knowledge  which  we  can  acquire  of  the  soul,  we  have 
the  Science  of  Psychology. 

In  constructing  it  we  proceed  on  the  Method  of  IN- 
DUCTION. This  is  distinguished  from  Deduction,  in 
which,  as  for  example  in  mathematics,  we  proceed  from 
assumed  or  admitted  principles  to  truths  derived  from 
them.  In  Induction  we  gather  in  (induco')  facts,  but 
always  with  a  view  of  discovering  an  order  among  them 
and  arranging  them.  It  is  found  that  in  all  nature  phys- 
ical and  mental  facts  proceed  uniformly  or  regularly,  that 
is,  according  to  laws.  This  is  the  case  in  physics  :  mat- 
ter attracts  matter  inversely  according  to  the  square  of 
the  distance.  It  is  also  so  in  psychology  :  like  tends  to 
recall  like.  It  thus  comes  to  be  the  end  of  science  to 
discover  laws.  Psychology  may  be  more  fully  defined  as 
that  science  which  inquires  into  the  operations  of  the 
conscious  self  with  the  view  of  discovering:  laws. 

Induction  begins  with  Observation.  In  botany  we 
collect  plants  and  look  at  their  forms  and  habits.     Id 


2  INTRODUCTION. 

psychology  we  notice  mind  as  it  operates  and  mark  its 
various  states.  In  Induction  we  also  employ  EXPERI- 
MENT, which  is  a  mode  of  observation  in  which  we  arti- 
ficially place  the  agents  of  nature  in  new  circumstances 
that  we  may  perceive  their  action  more  distinctly :  thus, 
in  order  to  determine  whether  all  bodies  fall  to  the 
ground  at  the  same  time,  we  put  a  guinea  and  a  feather 
in  the  exhausted  receiver  of  an  air-pump,  that  we  may 
note  the  time  they  take  to  descend,  independent  of  the 
resistance  of  the  air.  In  like  manner,  in  studying  the 
human  mind  we  place  objects  before  it  that  we  may  find 
how  it  is  affected  by  them :  thus,  in  order  to  determine 
how  the  conscience  acts,  we  direct  it  to  a  cruel  or  a 
beneficent  act ;  and  how  the  emotions  are  raised,  we  call 
up  objects  fitted  to  gratify  or  disappoint  our  springs  of 
action. 

Both  in  physical  and  in  psychical  science  we  begin 
with  and  proceed  throughout  by  Observation  Proper  and 
Experiment.  But  there  is  a  difference  in  the  agent  or  in- 
strument of  observation  in  the  two  departments.  In  the 
former  we  employ  the  senses,  such  as  sight  and  touch, 
aided  by  such  instruments  as  the  telescope,  microscope, 
and  blow-pipe,  and  we  weigh  and  measure  the  bodies.  In 
psychology  we  make  our  observations  by  Self-Conscious- 
ness, which  is  the  power  by  which  we  take  cognizance  of 
self  as  acting,  say  as  thinking  or  feeling,  as  remembering 
the  past  or  anticipating  the  future,  as  loving,  fearing,  re- 
solving. 

Self-Consciousness  may  give  us  information  directly  or 
indirectly.  (1.)  We  may  notice  the  states  of  the  soul  as 
they  flow  on,  our  judgments  and  our  fancies,  our  joys  and 
our  griefs.  (2.)  By  a  brief  memory  we  may  throw  back 
our  mind  on  the  past  and  recall  what  has  been  under  the 
consciousness  in  a  given  time ;  say  during  the  past  hour, 


METHOD   OP  INVESTIGATION.  S 

when  we  were  earnestly  thinking,  or  under  deep  sorrow, 
or  cherishing  ardent  hope.  (3.)  We  may  gather  what 
has  passed  through  the  minds  of  other  people  from  their 
words  or  their  deeds :  as  we  listen  to  them,  as  we  read 
their  writings  —  say  biographies  or  histories,  poems  or 
novels ;  or  as  we  observe  their  conduct  in  ordinary  or  in 
trying  circumstances.  We  understand  what  these  are  be- 
cause of  our  own  conscious  experience.  Our  field  of  view 
is  thus  enlarged  indefinitelj'^,  and  becomes  as  wide  and 
varied  as  our  intercourse  with  mankind  and  our  reading. 

It  is  proper  to  add  that  light  may  be  thrown  on  the 
operations  of  the  mind  by  the  physiology  of  the  brain 
and  nerves.  We  know  objects  external  to  the  mind  by 
the  senses,  and  it  is  important  that  we  know  how  the 
senses  work.  We  are  not  to  suppose  that  the  brain  and 
nerves  think ;  but  still  the  rise  and  even  the  nature  of 
i>ertain  mental  affections  depend  much  on  these,  and 
light  may  be  thrown  on  the  action  of  the  conscious  soul 
by  a  careful  study  of  the  parts  of  the  body  most  inti- 
mately connected  with  the  action  of  mind.  Observa- 
tion in  psychology  is  to  be  conducted  mainly  by  self- 
consciousness,  but  may  be  aided  by  the  physiology  of  the 
cerebro-spinal  mass. 

Beginning  with  the  observation  of  states  or  affections 
of  mind,  we  then  note  their  resemblances,  differences,  and 
other  relations,  and  can  thus  coordinate  them,  place  un- 
der one  head  those  that  are  like,  and  give  them  a  name 
by  which  we  can  speak  of  them.  Thus  we  find  that  in 
certain  exercises  we  notice  the  external  objects  before  us, 
and  we  give  to  them  the  common  name  of  sense  percep- 
tion ;  that  in  others  we  recall  the  past,  and  this  we  call 
memory ;  or  we  picture  unreal  objects,  such  as  a  mer- 
maid, and  this  we  designate  imagination ;  or  we  infer 
from  what  is  given  or  allowed  something  else  implied  in 


I  INTRODUCTION. 

it,  and  this  is  said  to  be  reasoning  ;  or  we  distinguish  be- 
tween good  and  evil,  and  this  we  speak  of  as  conscience  ; 
or  we  are  affected  with  sadness,  which  is  emotion  ;  or  we 
resolve  to  do  a  certain  act,  which  is  will. 

According  to  this  view  Psychology  should  have  as  its 
province  the  operations  of  the  conscious  self,  leaving  to 
Physiology  the  structure  of  the  organism.  These  two. 
the  soul  and  the  organism,  have  mutual  connections,  and 
the  sciences  which  deal  with  them  may  throw  light  op 
each  other,  but  all  the  while  they  are  to  be  carefully  dis 
tinguished. 

All  parts  of  the  organism  fall  under  the  science  o 
physiology  and  not  of  psychology.  But  were  it  only  t.> 
enable  us  to  distinguish  between  physical  and  psychical 
action,  it  is  necessary  to  look  at  certain  actions  of  the 
nervous  system  most  intimately  connected  with  mental 
action.  All  along  the  spinal  column  there  is  automatic 
action  which  is  reflex.  There  is  a  cell  called  a  ganglion, 
into  which  one  nerve  enters  and  from  which  another 
goes  out.  On  the  former  being  stimulated  at  the  ex- 
tremity, an  action  passes  along  to  the  centre,  and  then 
motion  proceeds  along  the  latter.  We  have  an  example 
in  the  frog's  leg  moving  when  it  is  pricked.  Here 
there  is  neither  sensation  nor  volition.  No  sensation  is 
felt  till  the  action  goes  up  to  the  brain. 

The  central  mass  of  the  brain  consists  of  "  basal  gang- 
lia "  (the  optic  thalami  and  corpora  striata^  as  in  Fig. 
2),  from  which  commissures  of  white  fibres  radiate  to  the 
gray  cortical  matter.  The  gray  matter,  which  is  at  the 
surface,  is  cellular,  and  is  most  intimately  connected  vdth 
mental  action  ;  the  white  matter  is  in  the  deeper  parts, 
and  consists  of  masses  of  fibres  running  in  different  di- 
rections, which  are  supposed  to  be  mainly  transmissive. 
The  communication  from  the  spinal  cord  is  up  by  the 


DEFINITION   OF   PSYCHOLOGY. 


medulla  oblongata  (Fig.  1,  Fig.  2  L.)  and  the  crura  cere- 
bri to  the  corpora  striata  and  optic  thalami ;  and  in  all  the 
higher  animals  there  is  a  large  transverse  bridge  called 
corpus  callosum,  which  connects  both  sides  of  the  brain. 


Fig.  1. 

BBAOf,  external  view,  showing  urtbrum  above,  eertbellum  and  medutta  oblongata  b»- 
low  and  behind  ;  front  of  brain  to  your  left  side.  A,  A',  A",  the  frontal  lobei ; 
B,  B',  B'',  the  temporo-sphenoidal  lobes;  C,  the  angular  gyrus  (seat  of  Tlaion); 
D,  jy,  D,"  the  occipital  lobes. 

The  nerves  which  carry  the  action  to  the  brain  are 
called  afferent,  those  which  carry  out  the  action  from 
the  brain  are  efferent.  The  former  are  Sensor,  the  latter 
Motor.     The  former  are  denoted  by  P  S,  the  latter  by 


6 


INTRODUCTION. 


A  M,  as  the  former  are  posterior  and  the  others  an- 
terior in  the  human  frame.  There  is  also  a  sensori- 
motor system,  of  which  sneezing  is  an  exercise,  in  which 
there  is  sensation  and  motion  but  no  volition.  The 
action    along  the  nerves  occupies  time  which  has  been 


Fio.  2. 


Cn  B&uir,  median  Tertieal  section:  front  of  brain  to  yonr  r^tliand.  A,  A,  i 

eaUosum;  B,  B,  corpora  jlna/a(  laterally  from  median  plane);  C,  C,  thalami  optiett 
D,  pineal  gland  (deemed  by  Descartes  the  seat  of  the  soul) ;  £,  E,  corpora  gMod- 
rigemina;  F,  the  crura  cerebri;  Q,  the  pituitary  body;  H,  the  commissni*  of 
the  optic  nerves;  I,  the  olfactory  lobe;  E,  temporal  lobe;  L,  mtduila  oblongata; 
M,  cerebellum,  with  (N)  its  axial  part,  and  the  arbor  vitse, 

measured  with  approximate  accuracy.  Thus,  the  action 
to  the  brain  travels  at  the  rate  of  140  or  150  feet  in  the 
second.  The  action  from  the  brain  travels  about  100 
feet  in  the  second.  The  rate  is  slowest  in  sight,  next 
•lowest  in  hearing,  and  quickest  in  toach. 


PROOF   OF   THE  EXISTENCE   OF   RIIND.  7 

SECTION    II. 

PROOF  OK  THE  KXtSTENCE  OP  MIND. 

But,  it  is  asked,  wliat  evidence  have  we  of  the  existence 
of  the  soul?  Tlie  answer  is  that  we  know  its  existence 
intuitively,  by  looking  in  upon  it  as  it  is  acting.  Weave 
conscious  of  it  as  perceiving,  imagining,  thinking,  resolv- 
ing, hoping,  fearing,  loving.  We  have  thus  evidence 
primary  and  not  merely  secondary,  oi'iginal  and  not  de- 
rived ;  as  certain  as  we  have  for  matter. 

But,  then,  it  is  asserted  that  mind  is  not  different  from 
matter,  that  it  is  a  mere  modification  of  matter.  It 
can  be  shown  in  opposition,  first,  that  we  know  the  two 
by  different  organs.  We  know  matter  by  sense-percep- 
tion ;  we  know  mind  by  self-consciousness.  We  cannot 
by  the  senses  observe  any  pui-e  psychical  act.  We  can 
touch  our  own  body  or  our  neighbor's,  but  we  cannot 
touch  our  own  soul  or  his.  We  can  see  a  colored  surface, 
but  we  cannot  see  a  thought.  We  can  taste  food,  but  not 
an  affection  of  love  or  of  fear.  We  can  hear  a  sound,  but 
not  a  reproach  of  conscience.  We  can  smell  a  rose,  but 
not  a  feeling  of  beauty. 

Secondly,  we  know  mind  and  matter  as  possessing  dif- 
ferent properties.  We  know  matter  as  extended,  that  is, 
as  occupying  space  and  being  contained  in  space.  We 
further  know  body  as  resisting  our  energy  and  acting  on 
other  bodies.  We  know  mind,  on  the  other  hand,  as  ap- 
prehending, judging,  reasoning,  distinguishing  between 
right  and  wrong,  as  under  emotion,  as  wishing  and  resolv- 
ing. It  is  acknowledged  that  we  know  things  only  by 
their  properties,  and  we  know  mind  and  matter  to  be 
different  by  their  manifesting  different  properties.  It  ia 
a  favorite  position  of  some  in  the  present  day,  that  th«> 


8  INTRODUCTION. 

two  are  correlates  of  one  another,  that  they  are  two  sides 
or  aspects  of  one  and  the  same  thing.  But  can  we  attach 
any  meaning  to  what  we  say  when  we  describe  thought 
as  a  side  or  aspect  of  a  stone  or  of  an  acid  or  a  piece  of 
timber  ?  Just  as  little  can  we  understand  or  conceive 
that  our  musings,  our  fancies,  our  resolutions  should 
have  solidity,  durability,  elasticity,  hardness,  softness, 
porosity,  pressure,  gravity.  We  thus  know  them  as  dif- 
ferent things  and  should  so  investigate  them,  and  seek  to 
determine  the  properties  of  each.  We  may  afterwards 
inquire  into  their  points  of  connection. 

SECTION  III. 

CAUTIONS  TO  BE  ATTENDED  TO  IN  THE  STUDY  OF  THE  MIND. 

(1.)  Certain  ideas  must  he  left  behind. — We  must  not 
take  materialistic  conceptions  with  us  into  psychology. 
In  the  natural  history  of  the  mind  things  without  us  are 
noticed  before  the  things  within  us.  We  are  in  con- 
sequence exposed  to  a  temptation  in  beginning  in  youth 
or  mature  age  the  discussion  of  psychical  questions:  we 
apply  ideas  got  from  matter  to  mind.  We  need  to 
guard  against  this.  Thus  we  are  not  to  allow  ourselves 
to  look  on  mind  itself  or  any  of  its  operations  as  occupy- 
ing space,  as  extended,  or  as  having  figure,  as  having 
weight  or  levity,  height  or  depth,  elevation  or  depression, 
attraction  or  repulsion,  solidity  or  elasticity,  motion  or 
rest,  light  or  darkness,  warmth  or  frigidity.  We  have 
come  to  an  entirely  new  country,  and  we  must  learn  to 
accommodate  ourselves  to  the  people,  to  their  laws  and 
customs,  and  in  particular  we  have  to  learn  their  lan- 
guage. 

(2.)  We  have  to  beware  of  the  misleading  influence  oj 
language  derived  from  material  objects.  — As  the  individ 


CAUTIONS  IN   THE   STUDY  OF  THE   MIND.  9 

aal  looks  without  before  he  pays  special  regard  to  the 
mind,  so  in  the  natural  history  of  society  there  is  an 
acquaintance  with  physical  nature  before  there  is  a  study 
of  our  mental  nature  ;  and  our  first  language  is  sensible 
rather  than  spiritual.  So  when  philosophers  begin  to 
study  the  human  mind  they  have  either  to  coin  and 
employ  a  new  language,  which  is  very  irksome,  or  they 
have  to  adopt  the  old  phrases  expressive  of  external  and 
extended  objects.  But  the  old  idea  is  apt  to  come  in  cov- 
ertly with  the  old  phrase  as  we  use  it.  Thus  the  orig- 
inal meaning  of  "  idea,"  signifying  image  (first  turned  to 
a  philosophic  purpose  by  Plato),  is  apt  to  come  into  our 
minds  (as  it  does  in  Locke's  philosophy)  with  the  phrase 
as  applied  even  to  a  mental  concept  or  notion.  The  terras 
employed  in  various  languages  to  denote  the  mind  — 
psyche  in  Greek,  anima^  spiritus,  in  Latin,  ruah  in  He- 
brew, and  dtman  in  Sanskrit,  originally  signified  breath 
or  wind.  "  Feeling,"  at  first  signifying  an  affection  of 
touch,  now  signifies  an  emotion  such  as  hope  and  fear. 
"  Emotion  "  is  literally  a  moving  out.  "  Impression,"  a 
fatal  word  introduced  formally  into  philosophy  by  Hume, 
denotes  a  mark  left  on  a  soft  substance  by  a  hard.  "  Un- 
derstanding," now  denoting  the  intellect,  refers  to  some- 
thing standing  under.  "Apprehension"  and  "concep- 
tion," applied  to  mental  acts  in  which  we  lay  hold  of  or 
bring  things  together,  meant  at  first  a  seizing  by  the 
hand.  We  cannot  afford,  even  at  the  present  advanced 
stage  of  inquiry,  to  lay  aside  such  phrases ;  but  when 
we  use  them  we  must  strip  them  of  their  materialistic 
associations. 


10  INTRODUCTION. 

SECTION  IV. 

CLASSIFICATION   OF   THE   FACULTIES. 

As  there  are  some  wlio  doubt  whether  the  mind  can 
be  represented  as  having  Faculties,  or  at  least  separate 
faculties,  it  will  be  necessary  to  lay  down  some  expla- 
nations and  limitations. 

I.   The  mind  evidently  possesses  power. 

Matter  itself  possesses  power.  It  is  acknowledged  to 
have  properties,  and  what  are  properties  but  powers  ?  It 
has,  for  example,  a  gravitating,  a  chemical,  an  electric 
power.  Physical  science  is  seeking  to  determine  the 
precise  law,  rule,  and  expression  of  the  powers  of  bodj'. 
If  matter  has  power,  much  more  has  mind.  Tiie  powers 
of  mind  are  different  from  those  of  matter.  If  the  one  has 
attractive  and  magnetic  powers,  the  other  has  powers  of 
understanding  and  emotion.  The  mind  has  powers,  but 
not  all  possible  or  conceivable  powers.  Its  powers  are 
bounded.  Thus  we  cannot  tell  what  is  doing  at  this 
moment  in  the  planet  Venus  or  the  constellation  Orion. 
Just  as  physics  would  determine  the  precise  rule  and  limit 
of  gravitation  or  chemical  affinity,  so  psychology  should 
try  to  ascertain  and  express  the  precise  laws  of  such 
powers  as  the  memory,  the  imagination,  the  conscience. 

II.  TJiat  there  are  different  powers  in  the  mind  is  evident 
from  the  differences  in  the  mental  states  and  affectiont 
of  different  persons. 

This  conclusion  might  be  drawn  from  the  very  differ- 
ences between  man  and  brute.  The  lower  animals  pos- 
sess powers  common  to  them  and  human  beings  ;  but 
there  are  others,  such  as  the  discernment  of  moral  obliga^ 


CLASSIFICATION  OF   THE   FACULTIES.  11 

tion,  which  are  peculiar  to  man.  But  the  inference  can 
be  drawn  more  directly  from  the  circumstance  that  one 
man  is  distinguished  for  powers  which  are  either  not  pos- 
sessed by  other  men  or  possessed  only  in  an  inferior  de- 
gree. Thus  one  man  has  a  great  tendency  to  observe 
causes,  another  resemblances ;  one  has  keen  emotional 
sensibility  ever  ready  to  flow  out,  another  a  resolute  will. 
It  has  further  to  be  noticed,  as  decisive  of  the  whole 
question,  that  these  capacities  and  inclinations  may  be- 
come hereditary  and  go  down  from  father  or  mother  to 
son  or  daughter. 

■  III.  This  is  further  evident  from  the  circumstance  that 
we  are  not  always  ■  exercising  every  faculty  or  the  same 
faculties. 

In  every  given  state  of  mind  there  seem  to  be  more 
than  one  power  in  exercise.  But  all  the  mental  powers 
are  not  in  action,  or  at  least  in  intense  action,  every  in- 
stant. At  this  moment  I  may  be  looking  at  the  paper 
before  me,  and  at  the  same  time  collecting  my  thoughts 
to  write  this  paragraph.  Immediately  after,  I  may  be 
looking  at  the  same  paper,  but  my  mind  may  have  wan- 
dered off  to  some  imaginary  scene  in  which  I  and  my 
friends  are  figuring.  From  such  a  case  we  see  that 
memory  is  different  from  imagination,  for  I  was  remem- 
bering when  I  was  not  exercising  imagination,  and  imag- 
ining when  I  was  not  remembering.  It  is  evident,  too, 
that  both  memory  and  imagination  are  different  from 
sense ;  for  we  had  the  senses  in  the  one  case  without 
memory  and  in  the  other  without  imagination. 

Some  would  say  that  what  are  spoken  of  in  these  ar- 
ticles are  not  different  fav^ulties,  but  different  modes  of 
consciousness.  I  am  not  sure  that  this  is  an  improved 
statement  or  the  correct  statement.     Our  perceptions. 


12  INTRODUCTION. 

recollections,  judgments,  are  not  modes  of  consciousness 
the  accurate  account  is  that  self-consciousness  observes 
them,  and  they  must  exist  in  order  to  their  being  noticed. 
But  even  though  they  were  modes  of  consciousness,  the 
question  would  immediately  arise,  What  are  these  differ- 
ent modes  ?  And  in  answering  we  would  be  brought 
back  to  different  powers  leading  to  the  diverse  manifes- 
tations of  consciousness. 

IV.  The  faculties  are  powers  of  one  indivisible  mind. 

They  do  not  differ  from  each  other,  as  the  hand  does 
from  the  foot,  or  the  lungs  from  the  heart.  They  are 
powers  of  one  existence  possessing  a  variety  of  attri- 
butes. 

V.  The  faculties  are  not  to  he  regarded  as  necessarily 
operating  one  after  another  in  regular  order  or  at  dif- 
ferent times. 

The  properties  of  matter  often  act  simultaneously.  At 
the  same  time  that  the  iron  is  chemically  combining  with 
oxygen  to  form  rust,  it  is  attracted  to  the  earth  by  gravi- 
tation, and  yet  we  regard  the  gravitating  and  chemical 
powers  as  different.  On  a  like  principle  we  are  con- 
strained to  regard  the  capacity  of  sense-perception,  when 
the  object  is  present,  as  different  from  the  memoi'y,  when 
it  is  absent.  It  seems  clear  that  several  of  the  mental 
powers  may  be  blended  in  one  act.  Thus  at  the  same  time 
that  I  am  judging  or  deciding,  I  may  be  under  the  influ 
ence  of  hope  or  fear,  of  benevolence  or  prejudice.  How 
many  diverse  powers  may  be  exercised  at  one  and  the 
same  time  in  that  blade  of  grass,  or  in  our  finger :  the 
gravitating,  chemical,  electric,  vital;  no  one  can  tell  how 
many.  There  may  be  a  like  number  and  diversity  of 
powers  at  work  in  certain  of  the  exercises  of  the  mind,  m 


CLASSIFICATION   OF   THE   FACULTIES.  13 

jvhen  men  are  solving  perplexing  problems,  speculative 
or  practical,  or  rising  to  the  higher  flights  of  genius. 

VI.  It  is  difficult  to  form  a  classification  of  the  faculties 

which  deserves  to  be  regarded  as  complete. 

This  arises  from  a  variety  of  causes.  It  may  proceed 
from  human  incapacity,  from  the  difficulty  of  penetrat- 
ing phenomena  which  are  so  fugitive  —  that  is,  so  briefly 
under  the  view  —  and  so  complicated,  and  from  the  cir- 
cumstance that  the  faculties  very  much  run  into  each 
other.  This  is  a  hindrance  not  peculiar  to  psychology. 
How  difficult  do  botanists  find  it  to  draw  out  an  arrange- 
ment of  the  vegetable  kingdom  which  may  include  all 
and  exclude  none,  which  may  combine  the  like  and  sep- 
arate the  unlike.  Yet  they  do  contrive  to  draw  out  such 
a  classification  as  is  fitted  to  bring  into  view  the  same- 
ness and  difference  of  plants.  We  may  in  like  manner 
so  distribute  the  operations  of  the  mind  as  to  unfold  their 
characteristics  and  their  distinctions. 

VII.  There  may  he  a  classification  of  the  faculties  em- 
bodying much  truth  and  of  eminent  practical  utility^ 
though  not  professing  to  beperfect. 

It  is  true  that  the  mind  is  one,  but  it  manifests  it- 
self in  a  variety  of  ways,  and  its  characteristic  operations 
must  be  carefully  noted  and  their  peculiarities  unfolded. 
It  is  only  when  the  acts  are  marked,  distinguished,  classi- 
fied, and  named  that  we  can  be  said  to  have  any  adequate 
idea  of  the  nature  of  the  mind.  For  practical  ends,  for 
the  purposes  of  the  orator,  the  poet,  the  advocate  at  the 
bar,  and  the  preacher  in  the  pulpit,  even  for  ordinarj 
letter- writing  and  conversation,  there  must  be  distinc- 
tions of  some  kind  drawn  as  between  the  head  and  the 
heart,  between  the  imagination  and  the  judgment,  be- 


14  INTRODUCTION. 

tween  the  understanding  and  the  will.  It  is  the  business 
of  the  psychologist  to  seize  upon  real  distinctions  and 
unfold  them  as  accurately  as  possible,  and  in  this  he  can- 
not err  to  any  extent,  provided  he  follow  a  careful  obser- 
vation and  be  ready  to  confess  that  while  he  exhibits  the 
truth,  it  is  not  the  whole  truth,  and  that  however  much 
we  know  there  is  always  more  to  man  unknown. 

VIII.  In  proceeding  to  distribute  the  powers  it  is  first  of 
all  desirable  to  have  some  such  division  as  that  which  we 
have  of  the  physical  world  into  the  mineral^  the  vege- 
table^ and  the  animal  kingdoms. 

The  Eleatic  School  (500  B.  c.)  had  a  loose  division 
of  what  are  now  called  the  intellectual  powers  into  Sense- 
Perceptiou,  probable  Opinion  (So^a),  and  Reason  (A.oyo9). 
Plato  had  a  like  threefold  division,  and  had  a  further 
division  of  what  is  now  called  the  Motive  Powers  intr 
Sensual  Feelings,  Impulse,  and  Love.  Aristotle  gave  a 
better  division  into  the  Gnoetic  or  Gnostic,  translated 
Cognitive,  and  the  Orective,  translated  Appetent  or 
Motive.  This  twofold  division  reappears  in  the  distinc- 
tion between  the  Understanding  and  the  Will,  the  Intel- 
lectual and  Active  Powers,  and  popularly  the  Head  and 
the  Heart.  Of  a  later  date  some  have  felt  it  necessary 
to  draw  distinctions  of  an  important  kind  between  the 
various  powers  embraced  in  the  Will  or  Heart,  and  this 
led  to  a  threefold  division,  the  Cognitive,  the  Feelings, 
and  the  Will,  a  classification  adopted  by  Kant  and  Ham- 
ilton. In  this  division  the  Senses  must  be  included 
under  either  the  Cognitive  or  the  Feelings,  or  divided 
between  them.  To  avoid  this  awkwardness  there  is  a 
fourfold  distribution,  the  Senses,  the  Intellect,  the  Feel- 
ings, and  the  Will.  Jt  should  be  observed  that  in  this 
iistribution,  the  Conscience  or  Moral  Faculty  hjis  nc 


CLASSIFICATION   OF   THE   FACULTIES. 


15 


place;  and  those  who  have  carefully  noted  its  operations 
will  acknowledge  how  difficult  it  is  to  bring  it,  with  its 
peculiar  ideas  of  right,  wrong,  and  duty,  under  any  of 
the  heads  named.  To  avoid  these  and  other  difficulties 
the  following,  embracing  all  the  others,  is  submitted  as 
a  good  pi'ovisional  division,  fitted  to  expose  to  view  the 
leading  attributes  of  the  mind. 

N.  B.  It  should  be  noticed:  (1.)  The  Conscience, 
which  is  both  a  Cognitive  and  a  Motive  Power,  has  the 
attributes  of  both  the  two  heads.  (^2.)  The  Compositive 
Power  or  Imagination  can  be  called  a  Cognitive  Power 
only  with  the  explanation  that  it  is  cognitive  not  as  it 
knows  existing  objects,  but  inasmuch  as  its  ideas  are  re- 
productions of  cognitions. 


FIKST   GROUP,   THE   COGNI- 
TIVE. 

I.  The  Simple  Cognitive  or 

Presentative. 

1.  Sense-Perception. 

2.  Self- Consciousness. 

II.  The     Reproductive      or 

Representative. 

1.  Retention. 

2.  Recalling  Power  or  Phan- 
lasy. 

3.  Associative. 

4.  Recognitive. 

5.  Compositive. 

6.  Sj'iubolic. 

III.  The     Comparative,    dis- 

COVKRING  REi^AllONa 

1.  Of  Identity. 


2.  Comprehension. 

3.  Resemblance. 

4.  Space. 

5.  Time. 

6.  Quantity. 

7.  Active  Propei'ty. 

8.  Causation, 


SECOND     GROUP,    THE     MO- 
TIVE. 

IV.  The   Conscience  a   Cog- 
nitive AND  Motive  Power. 

V.    The      Emotions,      with 
Motive  Principles. 

VI.  The  Will. 

1.  Wish. 

2.  Attention. 

3.  Volition. 


16  INTRODUCTION. 

'  SECTION   V. 

EDUCATION   OP   THE   FACULTIES 

It  is  often  said  that  education  should  proceed  philosoph- 
ically. But  there  is  no  agreement  among  those  who 
hold  this  view  as  to  what  philosophy  is,  some  preferring 
the  Scottish,  others  the  Hegelian,  and  a  number  in  the 
present  day  the  Sensational  or  Materialistic  philosophy. 
It  is  more  correct  and  definite  to  say  that  education 
should  proceed  psychologically,  and  when  it  does  so  it 
proceeds  philosophically.  But  what  does  this  mean  ? 
It  may  mean  two  things  somewhat  different  and  yet  con- 
nected, and  both  important.  It  may  mean  that  we  edu- 
cate the  faculties.  This  should  be  one  of  the  aims,  one 
of  the  main  ;iims,  of  education.  Our  faculties  are  in  the 
first  instance  mere  capacities  with  a  tendency  to  act. 
They  are  in  infants  in  the  form  of  a  seed,  or  germ,  or 
norm,  and  need  to  be  cherished  in  order  to  grow  and  to 
be  useful.  They  are  all  capable  of  being  trained  and 
should  be  trained,  and  education,  private  and  public, 
should  undertake  the  work.  But  the  statement  that  edu- 
cation should  proceed  psychologically  may  mean  some- 
thing more.  It  may  signify  that  education  should  pro- 
ceed according  to  the  genesis  and  natural  growth  of 
the  powers.  It  implies  that  we  begin  with  the  lower 
and  go  on  to  the  higher  powers.  Our  psychology,  if  prop- 
erly constructed,  may  greatly  aid  the  science  of  educa- 
tion. It  shows  us  what  the  faculties  are,  what  their  laws 
and  modes  of  operation,  and  it  is  by  knowing  these  that 
we  are  able  to  train  them.  It  should  show  us  what 
powers  first  appear,  and  how  one  power  grows  out  of  an 
other;  and  thus  lead  us  to  discover  what  branches  should 
be  taught  and  in  what  order,  what  should  be  taught  to 


EDUCATION  OF  THE  FACULTIES.  17 

children  and  what  to  tliose  farther  advanced.  For 
special  purposes,  scientific,  professional,  or  practical, 
greater  pains  may  be  taken  with  some  of  these  powers 
than  with  others,  but  at  the  same  time  all  should  be  so 
far  cultivated  as  to  keep  the  mind  properly  balanced, 
and  to  prevent  it  from  being  one-sided,  exclusive,  partial, 
and  prejudiced.  Now,  these  topics  may  legitimately  be 
taken  up  in  a  work  on  psychology,  at  least  in  an  inci- 
dental way,  as  we  proceed. 
• 


BOOK  FIRST. 

FIRST  GROUP:   THE    SIMPLE  COGNITIVE    OR  PRESENTA- 
TIVE  FACULTIES. 

They  are  so  called  because  they  give  us  knowledge  in 
its  simplest  form  —  that  is,  as  will  be  explained,  in  the 
singular  and  in  the  concrete ;  and  because  the  objects  are 
now  present  and  presented.  Other  faculties  are  also 
cognitive,  but  they  proceed  on  the  knowledge  acquired 
by  these  primary  powers,  and  they  form  composite,  ab- 
stract, and  general  notions.  The  other  faculties  also 
look  at  objects,  but  these,  as  in  memory,  for  instance, 
are  not  present ;  they  have  been  in  the  mind  before,  and 
are  not  presented,  but  represented.  Let  us  try  to  dis- 
cover what  must  be  the  first  exercise  of  the  conscious 
mind.     It  must,  I  apprehend,  be  knowledge. 

Knowledge  the  First  Mental  Exercise.  —  By  this  is  not 
meant  scientific,  that  is,  arranged  knowledge,  but  knowl- 
edge of  an  object  as  it  presents  itself  single  and  with  its 
qualities.  We  may  suppose  that  it  is  a  knowledge  of  our 
bodil}'  frame,  saj'  of  the  tongue  or  nostrils,  or  foot  or  fin- 
ger. Not  that  we  as  yet  know  that  it  is  the  tongue  or 
toe,  or  a  member  of  our  complex  bodily  frame  which  in 
its  entirety  may  as  yet  be  unknown  ;  yet  it  may  be 
knowledge,  forming  the  basis  of  all  higher  knowledge, 
abstract  and  general. 

(1.)  Our  knowledge  must  begin  with  things  appre- 
hended as  singular.  Out  of  the  single  things  we  form 
general  notions  by  observing  points  of  resemblance:  a? 


THE  SIMPLE  COGNITIVE  OR  PRESENTATIVE  FACULTIES.      19 

aaving  seen  a  number  of  flowers  of  a  particular  type  we 
form  the  class  "  rose."  This  knowledge  is  also  concrete, 
that  is,  of  things  with  qualities.  This  rose  is  known  as 
having  a  certain  form  and  color.  Out  of  the  concrete  we 
form  abstract  notions,  such  as  redness. 

(2.)  If  the  mind  did  not  begin  with  knowledge,  it  could 
never  reach  it  by  any  process  of  thought.  "  How  can 
we  reason  but  from  what  we  know  ?"  and  if  we  have  not 
knowledge  in  the  premises,  we  are  not  entitled  to  put  it 
into  the  conclusion.  David  Hume  started  with  "  impres- 
sions," as  of  colors,  and  "  ideas,"  mere  reproductions  of 
these,  such  as  remembered  colors,  and  thus  introduced 
the  most  formidable  skepticism  ever  propounded.  We 
meet  the  skepticism  at  its  entrance,  by  holding  that  our 
first  conscious  experience  does  not  consist  of  impressions, 
but  is  a  knowledge  of  things. 

This  generic  group  comprises  two  special  powers :  (1) 
Sense-Perception,  or  knowledge  by  the  senses;  (2)  Self- 
Consciousness,  or  a  knowledge  of  self  in  its  present  state. 


CHAPTER  I. 

SENSE-PERCEPTION. 
SECTION  I. 

ITS  NATURE  :    ORIGINAL,   INTUITIVE,    POSITIVK. 

By  this  power  we  get  a  knowledge  of  things  affecting 
us,  external  to  ourselves  and  extended.  The  things  thu8 
known  we  designate  "  matter,"  or  "  body,"  correspond- 
ing to  which  we  have  convenient  adjectives,  "material" 
and  "bodily." 

In  perception,  the  mind  takes  cognizance  of  something 
external  to  the  perceiving  mind.  The  ego  comes,  as  met- 
aphysicians say,  to  know  the  non-ego,  or,  as  I  prefer  say- 
ing, the  self  knows  the  not-self.  It  is  not  a  sensation 
merely  that  is  given  us,  or  a  feeling ;  it  is  not  an  idea  or 
an  apprehension,  or  a  notion  or  a  conception  ;  nor  is  it  a 
belief  or  faith.  It  is  more  than  a  sensation  or  a  feeling, 
which  may  accompany  the  perception.  The  experiences 
denoted  by  the  other  phrases  come  afterwards,  and  imply 
a  previous  knowledge.  It  is  not  the  exact  or  full  truth 
to  say  that  I  feel  an  external  object,  or  that  I  have  an 
idea  of  it  (which  I  may  have  when  it  is  not  present),  or 
that  I  apprehend  it,  or  have  a  notion  of  it,  or  believe  in 
it ;  the  correct  expression  is,  that  I  have  a  knowledge  of 
it,  or  that  I  cognize  it,  a  phrase  which  gives  us  a  corre- 
sponding adjective  and  noun,  cognitive  and  cognition.  It 
has  to  be  added  that  the  object  is  known  as  affecting  us 
The  primary  knowledge  is  thus  both  objective  and  sub 


w 


UiNi  VJKRBITY 


ITS  NATURE  :    ORIGINAL,   INTUITIVE,  POS 


jective:  that  is,  of  an  object,  but  this  as  perceived  by  the 
subjective  mind.  The  two  are  together  in  the  act  of  cog- 
nition, but  they  are  after  all  separate,  and  are  separated 
by  every  intelligent  mind  which  does  not  mistake  the 
aot-self  for  the  self,  and  never  confounds  the  perception 
with  the  object  perceived.  The  confounding  of  them  is 
tlie  work  of  bad  reflective  or  metaphysical  philosophy, 
and  not  of  spontaneous  thought.  Let  us  determine  some 
points  as  to  our  knowledge  by  the  senses. 

I.  We  have  sense-perceptions  which  are  ORlQiNAIi  and 
not  derived.  Were  they  not  given  us  by  an  original  en- 
dowment they  could  never  be  obtained  by  experience,  by 
inference,  or  any  other  process.  Experience,  properly 
speaking,  is  only  a  repetition  and  collection  of  what  we 
have  passed  through,  and  if  there  be  not  knowledge  in 
the  original  experiences,  it  cannot  be  had  by  accumulating 
them.  As  little  can  it  be  had  by  reasoning,  except  from 
premises  which  contain  knowledge  of  material  objects  ; 
without  this  there  would  be  an  evident  illicit  process,  that 
is,  we  have  more  in  the  conclusion  than  we  have  in  the 
premises. 

II.  Sense-Perception  is  Intuitive,  that  is,  we  look 
directly  on  a  material  object.  I  do  not  inquire  at  pres- 
ent what  is  the  precise  object  perceived,  whether  it  be 
in  the  bodily  frame  or  beyond  it ;  how  far  in,  if  it  be  in 
the  bodily  frame,  how  far  out,  if  it  be  beyond  it.  Expla- 
nations will  require  to  be  given  and  distinctions  drawn 
before  we  can  determine  what  is  the  precise  object.  But 
whether  in  the  body  or  without  the  body,  there  is  an  ob- 
ject perceived  directly  as  extended  and  affecting  us.  This 
is  the  simplest  hypothesis,  and  is  accompanied  with  no 
difficulties.  Every  other  supposition  lands  us  in  inextri- 
cable perplexities.  It  is  certain  our  consciousness  so  tes- 
tifying, that  we  do  know  material  objects;  but  nothing 


22  SENSE-PERCEPTION. 

coming  between  us  and  the  object  could  impart  the  cog- 
nition. 

III.  Sense-Perception  is  Positive,  and  not  merely  Phe- 
nomenal or  Relative :  that  is,  it  is  of  things  as  they  ap- 
pear, and  not  of  appearances  without  things,  of  things 
known,  and  not  of  the  relations  of  things  themselves  un- 
known. 

This  proposition  is  laid  down  in  opposition  to  two 
views  commonly  entertained  in  the  present  day.  The 
one  is  the  Phenomenal  theory  of  knowledge,  which  holds 
that  all  we  can  know  originally  are  appearances,  and  that 
we  cannot  know  what  things  are  except  by  some  further 
process,  or  that  we  cannot  know  whether  there  are  things 
or  no.  We  meet  this  unsatisfactory  doctrine  by  main- 
taining that  we  cannot  kiiow  appeai'ances  except  as  the 
appearances  of  a  thing  appearing.  We  do  not  know  all 
about  this  thing,  we  may  not  know  much  about  it,  but 
we  are  sure  that  it  exists  when  it  appears  to  us,  and 
that  it  is  known  to  us  under  a  certain  aspect  or  as  do- 
ing something.  Even  an  echo,  coming  from  a  hollow  in 
which  nothing  is  seen,  has  a  reality  in  vibrations  of  the 
air  reaching  the  tympanum  of  our  ear. 

Closely  allied  to  this  theory  is  that  of  Relativity,  ac- 
cording to  which  we  do  not  know  things,  but  merely  the 
i-elation  of  one  thing  to  another,  to  ourselves,  or  to  some 
other  things.  Now  this  is  to  reverse  the  proper  order  of 
nature.  We  must  so  far  know  things  before  we  can  dis- 
cover their  relations.  In  the  discovery  of  relations  we  so 
far  know  the  things  ;  we  know  them  as  having  the  quali- 
ties which  bring  them  into  relation.  These  positions  are 
laid  down  in  opposition  to  three  theories  which  have 
been  widely  entertained,  and  which  it  may  be  useful  tc 
look  at  and  examine. 


THEORIES  OF  SENSE-PERCEPTION.  23 


SECTION   II. 

tHEORIES    OF    SEXSE-rERCEPTIOX  :      IDEAL,     INFERENTIAL,     PHI' 
NOMENAL   AND   RELATIVE  :    NATURAL   REALISM. 

The  Ideal  Theory.  According  to  it  the  mind  does 
not  perceive  the  material  object,  but  some  idea  or  repre- 
sentation of  it,  some  medium  or  tertium  quid  coming  be- 
tween the  object  and  the  perceiving  mind.  This  explains 
nothing,  and  brings  in  perplexities  in  addition  to  those 
which  belong  to  the  subject  itself. 

It  was  introduced  to  solve  the  difficulty  supposed  to 
arise  from  matter  being  thought  to  act  on  mind  and  mind 
on  matter.  The  principle  was  laid  down  as  early  as  the 
ihiys  of  Einpedocles,  that  like  could  act  only  on  like.  So 
it  was  necessary  to  bring  in  something  to  interpose  be- 
tween the  object  perceived  and  the  perceiving  mind. 
According  to  Democritus,  the  expounder  of  the  atomic 
theoi-y  of  matter,  images  (€iS.uA.u)  composed  of  the  finest 
atoms  floated  from  the  object  to  the  mind.  Lucretius 
has  expressed  the  theory  in  "  De  Rerum  Natura,"  lib* 
iv.  48-53  :  — 

"  Dico  igitur  rerum  efBgias  tenuiaqne  figuras 
Mittiei-  ab  rebus  summo  de  corpore  rerum, 
Quoi  quasi  membranse  vel  cortex  nominitandast, 
Quod  speciem  ac  fonnam  similem  gerit  ejus  imago 
Ciijuscumque  cluet  de  corpore  fusa  vagari." 

It  has  appeared  in  one  form  or  other  ever  since.  It 
takes  a  grosser  and  a  more  refined  shape.  Some  look  on 
the  idea  perceived  as  a  sort  of  material  figure,  like  the 
image  in  a  mirror  or  that  formed  on  the  retina  of  the  eye 
when  an  object  is  before  it.  This  removes  no  difficulty  ; 
for  if  this  be  a  material  figure,  how  can  so  different  a  sub- 
Btance  as  mind  perceive  it?  With  most  modern  metaphy- 
sicians the  theory  has  taken  a  more  spiritual  form.    Soma 


24  SENSE-PERCEPTION. 

make  the  idea  an  affection  of  the  brain.  Most  of  its  sup- 
porters do  not  know  what  to  make  of  it.  With  the  mora 
eensihle  the  idea  is  merely  the  mind  apprehending  the 
object ;  but  in  this  case  the  idea  is  not  the  object  looked 
at,  but  the  mind  looking  at  it.  Locke  speaks  every- 
where of  the  mind  perceiving  the  idea  rather  than  the 
thing,  and  has  thus  confused  his  realistic  philosophy 
and  made  knowledge  consist  in  the  discovery  of  the  con- 
formity of  our  ideas  to  one  another,  and  not  their  con- 
formity to  things.  And  so  the  question  was  raised  and 
lias  been  much  discussed  by  Thomas  Reid,  Sir  William 
Hamilton,  and  the  Scottish  School  of  Philosophy,  as  to 
whether  it  is  necessary  to  suppose  that  there  is  anything 
coming  between  the  perceiving  mind  and  the  thing  per- 
ceived. To  allege  that  there  is  such  a  middle  agent  is 
at  best  a  hj^pothesis  of  which  there  can  be  no  positive 
proof.  As  a  hypothesis  it  explains  nothing,  but  rather 
perplexes  everything  by  bringing  in  agents,  of  the  exist- 
ence of  which  we  have  no  proof,  and  which,  if  they  did 
exist,  would  demand  new  explanations.  For  we  have  now 
to  account,  not  for  the  action  of  body  on  mind,  but  for  the 
action  first  of  body  on  this  idea,  and  then  the  action  of 
this  idea  on  the  mind.  The  simplest,  the  most  satisfac- 
tory account  is  that  body  acts  on  mind,  and  that  we  per- 
ceive the  very  thing. 

The  Inferential  Theory.  —  According  to  it  the 
knowledge  of  objects  external  and  extended  is  got  by  in- 
ference from  something  else ;  from  a  sensation  or  from 
an  undefinable  thing  called  an  impression.  Some  regard 
the  argument  as  legitimate,  and  believe  in  the  existence 
of  body.  Some  look  upon  it  as  illegitimate,  and  so  hold 
that  there  is  no  proof  of  the  existence  of  inatter. 

Certain  metaphysicians  of  the  French  Sensational 
School,   such    as    Destutt   de   Tracy  and    Dr.    Thomai 


THEORIES   OF  SENSE-PERCEPTION.  25 

Brown  of  Edinburgh,  held  that  from  a  sensation  in 
the  mind  we  argue  the  existence  of  an  external  world, 
and  justified  the  inference.  According  to  this  theory 
there  is  first  a  sensation  and  then  an  inference  that  there 
is  an  external  object,  the  cause  of  it.  For  example,  the 
child  notices  what  it  afterwards  learns  to  characterize  as 
the  face  of  its  mother.  It  finds  that  it  cannot  reproduce 
this  at  pleasure,  and  that  there  is  nothing  within  itself 
to  produce  it,  and  it  concludes  that  there  must  be  some- 
thing external  acting  as  its  cause.  It  is  supposed  that 
an  accumulation  of  such  experiences  gives  us  the  idea 
which  we  have  of  matter.  Now,  there  are  manifestly 
many  assumptions  in  this  supposed  process.  First,  it  is 
assumed  that  everything  beginning  to  be  must  have  a 
cause.  Brown  regarded  this  principle  as  intuitive,  and 
so  was  entitled  to  use  the  principle.  It  might  be  dif- 
ficult, however,  to  prove  that  if  a  child  were  shut  up 
within  its  own  self  it  could  at  an  early  date,  or  at  all, 
arrive  at  a  belief  in  invariable  causation  merely  from  ex- 
perience^ for  its  experience  would  habitually  be  of  events 
without  a  known  cause.  But  granting  that  it  could,  the 
iifl&culty  arises,  How  could  the  mind  think  or  imagine 
anything  external  of  which  it  has  no  experience,  till,  as  is 
supposed,  it  has  drawn  the  inference  ?  But  a  more  for- 
midable, I  believe  an  insuperable,  objection  remains.  It 
is  certain  that  in  our  natural  idea  of,  or  belief  in,  an  ex- 
ternal world,  we  regard  it  as  extended.  But  how  have  we 
got  this  idea?  From  the  experience  of  a  sensation  which 
is  without  extension,  we  are  not  entitled  to  argue  the  ex- 
istence of  an  extended  object,  as  we  would  have  something 
in  the  conclusion,  namely,  extension,  not  in  the  premises. 
The  reasoning  being  thus  illegitimate,  we  are  driven  to 
one  or  other  of  two  conclusions  •  one,  by  far  the  most 
reasonable,  that  we  perceive  extended  objects  at  onc6 


26  SENSE-PERCEPTION. 

and  intuitively.  The  other  is  that  matter  is  and  must  be 
forever  unknown  to  us,  —  the  conclusion  drawn  from 
Brown's  view  by  J.  S.  Mill  and  his  school,  which  sets 
aside  our  intuitive  convictions. 

The  Phenomenal  and  Relative  Theories.  — 
Reference  has  already  been  made  to  these.  The  former 
is  a  Kantian  modification  of  Hume's  doctrine  that  all 
tlie  mind  perceives  through  the  (supposed)  senses  are 
impressions.  Kant  saw  at  once  that  these  impressions 
were  not  knowledge,  and  could  not  give  knowledge. 
Not  wishing  to  assume  anything  not  allowed  him  by  the 
skeptic,  he  took  the  position,  Let  us  assume  that  there  is 
nothing  but  appearances,  and  agree  to  call  the  things 
thus  primarily  before  us  presentations,  without  assert- 
ing what  they  are  ;  and  then  he  proceeded  by  a  series  of 
subjective  forms  to  fashion  them  into  a  grand  intellect- 
ual system.  But  as  he  had  not  objective  reality  in  what 
he  started  from,  he  never  could  reach  it  by  any  formal 
process  of  thought.  So  his  philosophy  commenced  with 
appearances  and  culminated  with  subjective  forms.  I 
meet  this  theory  from  the  beginning  by  insisting  that 
appearances  must  be  appearances  of  something,  are  in 
fact  things  appearing ;  and  that  in  our  first  mental  oper- 
ations we  know  things  presenting  themselves.  Accord- 
ing to  the  other  and  allied  theory  we  know  merely  rela- 
tions. True,  we  are  able  to  discover  relations,  but  they 
Are  relations  between  things  so  far  known.  Our  knowl- 
edge of  relations  is  of  things  real  or  imaginary  as  related. 
We  have  as  clear  evidence  that  we  know  things  as  that 
ive  know  the  relations  of  things. 

j  Natural  Realism,  or  Immediate  Perception.— 
According  to  it  we  perceive  the  external  object  directly. 
That  object  may  be  in  our  frame,  or  in  a  body  affecting 
our  frame.     Upon   our    primitive  knowledge  "we   may 


DISTINCTIONS  OF  NATURAL  REALISM.  27) 

build  other  knowledge  by  further  experience,  and  by  legit- 1 
imate  inferences.  But  all  our  experiences  throw  us  back? 
on  an  immediate  knowledge  of  matter.  All  our  reason-' 
ings  about  body  imply  a  primitive  cognition  on  which 
they  proceed. 

It  must  be  left  an  unsettled  question,  in  regard  to 
which  we  may  have  to  seek  and  obtain  further  and  fur- 
ther light,  what  is  the  precise  object  we  perceive  by  the 
senses  generally,  and  by  each  of  the  senses.  Before  the 
time  of  Berkeley  it  was  generally  believed  that  we  at 
once  know  distance  by  the  eye.  Since  his  time  it  has 
commonly  been  acknowledged  that  in  this  knowledge 
there  are  gathered  observations  and  reasoning  involved. 
But  these  acquired  perceptions  imply  primary  ones  on 
which  they  proceed.  It  is  by  such  facts,  which  we  know 
at  once,  as  the  size  and  brightness  of  the  object  and  the 
intervening  objects  all  seen,  that  we  determine  distance 
by  the  eye.  Later  physiological  and  psychological  re- 
search seem  to  be  showing  that  in  the  exercise  of  the 
senses  there  are  organic  processes  and  mental  processes 
deeper  down  than  those  which  appear  on  the  surface. 
But  whatever  intermediary  steps  there  be,  there  must 
be  beyond  and  beneath  them,  and  this  to  start  with,  a 
knowledge  of  body  occupying  space.  Yet  in  order  to 
uphold  this  doctrine  certain  distinctions  must  be  drawn. 

SECTION  III. 

DISTINCTIONS  TO  BE  ATTENDED  TO  IN  HOLDING  THE  DOCTRINE 
OF  NATURAL  REALISM  :  EXTRA-MENTAL  AND  EXTRA-OR- 
GANIC KNOWLEDGE  ;  SENSATION  AND  PERCEPTION  ;  ORIGINAL 
AND   ACQUIRED   PERCEPTIONS. 

Extra-Mental  and  Extra-Organic.  —  All  knowl- 
edge obtained  through  the  senses  is  discerned  as  extra- 
mental,  that  is,  as  out  of   and  beyond  the  perceiving 


28  SENSE-PERCEPTION. 

mind.  Our  perception  of  the  organs  of  the  body,  say 
the  tongue  or  the  eye,  is  of  something  not  in  the  self 
cognizing  it.  But  we  come  to  know  objects  outside  our 
perceived  organs  and  affecting  them.  It  is  thus  that  on 
stretching  out  our  hand  or  foot  we  find  something,  a  stone 
or  board,  resisting  ;  this  knowledge  may  be  called  extra- 
organic.  All  our  cognitions  through  the  senses  are  extra- 
mental  ;  those  through  some  of  the  senses,  such  as  the 
sight  and  the  muscular  sense,  are  also  extra-organic,  that 
is,  they  look  at  objects  beyond  our  bodily  frame. 

Sensation  and  Perception.  —  It  may  be  noticed 
that  in  all  our  knowledge  through  the  senses  there  is  an- 
other element,  and  that  is  feeling  of  some  kind.  When  we 
know  our  hand  we  may  know  it  in  a  pleasant  or  unpleasant 
state.  We  may  and  we  ought  to  distinguish  between  the 
two.  We  call  the  one  Perception  and  the  other  Sensa- 
tion. These  always  go  together.  There  is  never  a  sen 
sation  without  a  perception,  say,  a  perception  of  our 
organism  or  of  an  object  affecting  it.  On  the  other  hand, 
there  is  never  a  perception  without  a  sensation  of  some 
kind,  strong  or  faint,  pleasant,  painful,  or  indifferent. 
The  sensation  seems  to  be  a  mental  affection  or  feeling 
of  an  organic  state. 

These  two,  the  perception  and  sensation,  have  by  no 
means  the  same  intensity.  It  very  often  happens  that 
when  the  perception  is  strong  the  sensation  is  weak,  and 
vice  versa,  when  the  sensation  is  powerful  the  pei'ception 
may  all  but  disappear.  Thus  in  listening  to  an  instruc- 
tive speaker,  our  attention  may  be  fixed  on  his  words, 
of  which  we  wish  to  ascertain  the  meaning ;  whereas  in 
listening  to  music  our  soul  may  be  exclusively  occupied 
with  the  rich  sounds.  There  is  a  sense  in  which  the 
two  are  in  the  inverse  order,  the  one  of  the  other.  li 
the  feeling  is  very  strong  the  object  may  be  very  mucV 


DISTINCTIONS   OF  NATURAL   REALISM.  29 

lost  sight  of.  On  the  other  hand,  we  may  be  so  absorbed 
with  the  contemplation  as  scarcely  to  notice  the  asso- 
ciated sensation.  The  soldier  eagerly  engaged  in  the 
fight  vvitli  the  enemy  in  front  of  him  does  not  for  a  time 
feel  the  wound  with  which  he  is  pierced.  In  gazing  at 
a  historical  painting,  we  hiay  be  so  interested  in  the  in- 
cident as  not  to  notice  the  coloring  ;  whereas,  in  looking 
at  a  flower  painting  we  so  enjoy  the  rich  hues  as  never 
to  notice  the  disposition  of  the  flowers.  This  fact  is  an 
illustration  of  a  more  general  law  of  our  nature,  that 
when  we  fix  our  attention  on  one  part  of  a  concrete  or 
complex  phenomenon  presented,  the  other  parts  become 
dim,  and  may  in  the  end  very  much  vanish  from  the 
view. 

Original  and  Acquired  Perceptions.  —  We 
have  seen  that  man  must  have  original  perceptions. 
Such  are  those  of  savors  by  the  taste,  of  odors  by  the 
nostrils,  of  sounds  b}'^  the  ear,  of  a  colored  surface  by 
the  eye,  and  of  resistance  by  the  muscular  sense.  Unless 
we  get  these  by  an  original  inlet  we  can  never  acquire 
them  by  any  derivative  process.  A  man  born  blind  can- 
not form  any  understanding  or  idea  of  color  ;  it  is  Locke 
who  tells  us  of  the  blind  man  who,  on  being  asked  what 
idea  he  had  of  the  color  of  scai'let,  replied  that  he 
thought  it  to  be  like  the  sound  of  a  trumpet.  But  then 
by  combining  our  experiences  and  by  reasoning  from 
them  we  can  add  indefinitely  to  our  knowledge.  Thus  it 
is  believed  that  originally  human  beings  cannot  estimate 
distance  by  sight,  and  yet  it  is  mainly  by  this  sense  that 
the  mature  man  is  able  to  tell  the  distance  of  objects 
from  one  another  and  from  himself.  He  has  acquired  a 
knowledge  of  nearness  or  remoteness  by  the  muscular 
Bense,  say  by  the  hand  pressing  along  a  surface  ;  but  now 
he  is  able  by  the  eye  discerning  the  shade  of  color  or  the 


30  SENSE-PERCEPTION. 

apparent  size  to  determine  the  distance  of  an  object.  In 
this  acquired  knowledge  there  is  first  an  accumulation  of 
experiences,  and  then  an  argument  founded  on  them. 
We  shall  show  that  it  is  by  drawing  the  distinction  be- 
tween our  original  and  acquired  perceptions  that  we  are 
able  to  account  for  the  apparent  deception  of  the  senses. 
Our  original  perceptions  never  deceive  us,  but,  in  the 
haste  of  observation  and  the  rapidity  of  reasoning,  we 
may  pronounce  erroneous  judgments  on  our  acquired 
perceptions. 

SECTION  IV. 

THE  senses;  general  remarks. 

I  begin  my  exposition  of  these  by  one  or  two  remarks 
bearing  on  them  all. 

The  sensation  and  the  perception  of  the  sensation  have 
their  seat  not  in  the  organs  of  sense,  so  called,  or  in  the 
nerves  attached  to  them,  but  in  the  brain.  The  palate, 
the  nostrils,  the  ear,  the  touch,  the  eye  might  all  be  af- 
fected in  a  regular  manner,  but  there  would  be  no  taste, 
Bmell,  hearing,  feeling,  nor  seeing,  unless  the  action  went 
up  into  the  cerebrum.  Attempts  have  been  made  to  give 
a  separate  place  to  each  of  the  senses  in  the  brain.  1 
deem  it  proper,  without  committing  myself,  to  give  the 
views  on  this  subject  of  Professor  Ferrier  of  London,  who 
has  localized  the  senses.  It  would  appear  that  rays  of 
light  might  reach  the  eye,  pass  through  the  coats  and 
humors  on  to  the  retina  and  the  optic  nerve,  and  yet  no 
object  be  seen  if  the  movement  did  not  go  on  to  the  local 
centre  of  sight.  Seeing  is  not  in  the  eye  but  in  the  brain. 

Each  sense  gives  its  own  sensation  and  perception. 
If  the  optic  nerve  is  struck,  light  may  be  emitted ;  if  the 
auditory,  a  sound  is  heard.  But  one  sense  cannot  be  made 
jo  give  the  impression  produced  by  another. 


THE   SENSES;   ORGANIC   AFFECTIONS.  31 

Great  aid  is  imparted  to  all  the  senses  by  motion.  This 
was  dwelt  upon  by  Aristotle,  and  has  smce  been  noticed 
by  nearly  all  physiologists.  Were  the  eyeballs  motionless 
our  knowledge  of  objects  would  be  attained  much  more 
slowly  and  would  be  much  more  confined.  We  get  a 
great  increase  of  information  by  moving  our  sense  or- 
gans, our  eyes,  our  nostrils,  or  ears,  so  as  catch  different 
impressions.  We  would  have  a  very  vague  idea  both 
of  space  and  time  without  locomotion. 

SECTION  V. 

ORGANIC    AFFECTIONS. 

Those  of  the  nerves  of  the  internal  organs  of  the  body, 
such  as  the  stomach,  the  alimentary  canal,  and  the  viscera, 
also  of  the  physiological  acts  of  respiration,  digestion, 
breathing,  and  circulation,  and  specially  of  tempera- 
ture, which  though  intimately  allied  to  feeling  is  yet 
separate,  may  first  be  considered. 

Each  of  these  furnishes  a  peculiar  sensation.  The 
feelings  from  the  whole  are  very  numerous  and  very 
vai'ied,  and  may  constitute  a  considerable  portion  of  hu- 
man pleasure  or  human  suffering.  Such  is  the  comfort 
produced  by  our  bodily  wants  being  supplied  by  air  and 
water  and  food,  and  the  stimulating  cheerfulness  arising 
from  perfect  bodily  health.  Such  are  the  nervous  affec- 
lions,  painful  or  pleasant,  exciting  or  dull,  irritating  or 
soothing,  depressing  or  elevating ;  and  the  uneasiness  or 
pain  coming  from  a  diseased  bodily  frame.  In  all  such 
affections  the  main  element  is  sensation,  but  mingled  with 
it,  though  often  very  faint,  is  a  perception  of  the  part  af- 
fected. This  is  not  of  any  object,  extra-organic.  We 
may,  however,  by  experience  and  reasoning  come  to  know 
that  this  pain  proceeds  from  a  wound  produced  by  a  blow 


32  SENSE-PERCEPTION. 

or  from  an  unhealthy  atmosphere.  But  the  original  per- 
ception is  only  of  an  aft'ection  of  our  body  of  which  we 
know  the  direction  and  in  a  loose  way  the  locality.  But 
upon  these  simple  original  perceptions  we  may  rear  a 
bod}'^  of  acquired  ones.  We  may  come  to  know,  for  ex- 
ample, what  kinds  of  food  and  air  derange  our  systems 
and  what  kinds  stimulate  or  strengthen  us.  The  affec- 
tions of  which  I  have  been  speaking  constitute  a  sort  of 
general  sense,  which  seems  to  be  strong  in  some  of  the 
lower  animals. 

The  visceral  affections  are  localized  by  Ferrier  in  the  occipital 
lobes  of  the  brain  (Fig.  1,  D,  D',  D").  When  this  part  of  the  brain 
is  injured  the  animal  will  have  no  relish  for  its  food  and  will  not  seek 
for  it.     This  sense  becomes  differentiated  into  special  senses. 

SECTION   VI. 


Its  seat  is  in  the  upper  surface  of  the  tongue,  which  is 
covered  with  papillae  of  different  kinds,  and  is  supplied 
with  two  nerves,  the  glosso-pliaryngeal  and  the  gustatory,  a 
branch  of  the  fifth  pair.  The  matter  affecting  the  tongue 
must  be  in  a  liquid  state  in  order  to  its  being  felt.  Taste 
is  affected  by  mechanical  means,  as  hj  irritating  the  root 
of  the  tongue.  Many  seeming  tastes  may  be  regarded  as 
emells ;  e.  g.,  an  onion  and  an  apple,  if  the  nose  be  closed, 
eannot  be  distinguished  from  each  other  by  taste. 

The  sensations  furnished  are  considerably  diversified, 
and  cannot  be  classified  very  accurately  or  properly  des- 
ignated as  they  run  into  each  other.  Some  are  keen  and 
some  insipid,  some  sweet  and  some  bitter,  some  luscious 
?,nd  some  acrid.  In  this  sense  the  sensation  is  far  more 
powerful  than  the  perception.  Still  the  perception  is  al- 
ways present.     We  have  a  vague  knowledge  of  the  tast^ 


TASTE. 


as 


being  in  our  mouth  and  in  a  certain  relative  direction. 
Acting  on  the  principle  of  causation  we  seek  for  a  cause 
of  the  sensation,  and  by  observation  we  may  find  it  to  bo 
some  kind  of  meat  or  drink,  and  by  a  gathered  experi- 
ence determine  what  kind  of  food  it  is.     Some  have  ac- 


fanti'iform  paoiUa 


DlAoa&ll  OF  THE  TONO0E,  showing  the  eircumvallate  papilla,  enlarged,  with  their  nerrei 
(n,  n,  n),  and  taste-bnds,  also  the  fungiform  papilla  and  fha  JUiform  papilla,  and 
nerves  (n,  n)  entering  them.  The  nerves  to  the  papillaa  are  branches  of  the  glosso- 
pharyngeal nerve.  It  has  been  recently  fonnd  that  the  so-called  taate-buds  occur 
on  parts  of  the  mouth  which  have  no  sense  of  taste. 

quired  a  great  delicacy  in  distinguishing  the  qualities  of 
such  articles  as  wine  and  tea.  But  there  is  no  evidence 
that  by  this  sense  we  know  originally  and  intuitively  any- 
thing beyond  our  frame.  The  knowledge  is  of  objects 
extra-mental  but  not  extra-organic. 


84 


SENSE-PEBGEPTION. 


SECTION  vn. 


SMELL. 


Its  organ  is  the  nose,  and  the  sensibility  is  in  the  mu- 
cous membrane  lining  the  upper  part  of  the  interior  and 
the  cavities  which  branch  from  it.     It  has  a  special  pair 


DiAGBAH  or  Nose.  A,  showing  olfactory  lobe  (o//'.  /.)  from  brain,  with  its  ol&ctorr 
neryes  (o.  n.) ;  6  is  a  branch  of  the  fifth  or  trigeminal  nerre;  it  sends  branches  to  ttie 
lower  region  of  the  nose,  and  also  to  the  palate ;  p.,  palate;  p.  n.,  posterior  nares 
(where  the  nose  opens  Into  the  mouth).  B  shows  the  fine  olfactive  cells  (o.c), 
ending  in  soft  processes  on  the  epithelium  of  the  nostrils.  They  alternate  with 
columnar  epithelial  cells  (c.  «.) 

of  nerves,  or  rather  processes  of  the  brain  —  the  olfac- 
tory. An  olfactory  lobe  of  the  brain  proceeds  to  the 
region  above  each  nostril  and  sends  down  olfactory  nerves 
into  the  upper  part  of  the  nostril.  These  nerves  supply 
rod-shaped  epithelial  cells,  some  wide,  some  narrow.  The 
lower  part  of  the  nostrils  is  supplied  by  nerves  of  com- 
mon sensation  from  a  branch  of  the  fifth  or  great  tri- 
geminal nerve. 


HEARING.  35 

The  matter  affecting  the  nostrils  must  always  be  in  a 
gaseous  state,  and  is  called  odor.  Odors  are  so  varied 
that  we  have  not  specific  names  for  them  ;  we  speak  of 
them  as  sweet,  fresh,  ethereal,  stimulating;  and  of  mal- 
odors  as  acrid,  nauseous,  disgusting.  Smell  is  closely 
connected  with  taste.  Both  seem  to  be  combined  in  fla- 
vor. Often,  by  combining  the  two,  we  have  to  determine 
the  nature  and  state,  whether  sound  or  corrupt,  of  the 
food  presented  to  us.  Smell  always  contains  perception, 
a  perception  of  our  nostrils  as  affected,  but  the  sensations 
are  always  more  predominant.  All  that  we  know  imme- 
diately by  this  sense  seems  to  be  our  affected  organism. 
If  the  odor  is  one  unknown,  we  have  no  idea  of  the  ob- 
ject from  which  it  comes.  The  senses  of  taste  and  smell 
are  the  most  animal  of  the  senses.  Yet  smell  is  capable 
of  imparting  a  considerable  amount  of  information,  es- 
pecially of  direction.  Some  of  the  lower  animals  seem 
to  be  guided  in  their  movements  by  this  sense.  By  it 
the  dog  will  follow  the  track  of  game  or  of  its  master,  or 
that  which  it  has  gone  over  itself  previously,  with  won- 
derful accuracy.  As  we  ascend  the  scale  of  animals, 
this  sense  seems  to  lose  its  importance  and  its  acuteness. 
But  by  it  our  acquired  perceptions  carry  us  a  consider- 
able distance  beyond  our  bodily  frame,  and  open  to  us  a 
wider  world  than  taste  does.  Smell  and  taste  are  sup- 
posed to  have  their  centres  not  easily  distinijuishable  in 
the  Subiculum  Cornu  Ammonis.     (Fig.  2,  K.,  p.  6.) 

SECTION  vm. 

HEARING. 

In  this  sense  we  have  both  sensation  and  perception  in 
about  the  same  proportion,  though  sometimes  the  sensa 
tion  is  the  stronger,  as  in  music,  and  some';iraes  the  per 


ob  SENSE-PERCEPTION. 

ception,  as  when  we  are  listening  to  tbe  words  of  a 
speaker.  It  gives,  primarily,  a  knowledge  of  our  ears  as 
affected,  but  by  a  combined  experience  we  perceive  ob- 
jects at  a  distance,  and  know  that  this  sound  proceeds 
from  the  human  voice,  this  other  from  a  drum,  or  from 
the  wind  agitating  the  trees,  or  from  a  running  stream. 
The  organ  of    hearing  is  the  ear  collecting   the  sound, 


Fig.  5.     Hearing. 

DuSKAM  OF  Left  Ear.  A,  general  arrangement  of  parts.  B,  inner  lab/rinth  (enlarged) 
a.,  anvil ;  amp.,  ampuUra ;  au.  n.,  auditory  nerve  ;  a.  «.  c,  anterior  Tertical  canal ; 
CH.,  concha,  or  outer  ear ;  coch.,  cochlea  ;  Eus.  c,  Eustachian  canal ;  ex.  m.,  external 
meatus  ;  /.  ov.,  foramen  oTale  ;  /.  ro.,  foramen  rotundum ;  A.,  hammer ;  A.  e.,  hori- 
tontal  canal ;  p.  v.  c,  posterior  Tertical  canal ;  »t.,  stirrup. 

the  middle  ear  or  tympanum  with  its  bones  or  muscles? 
and  the  internal  ear  or  labyrinth,  presenting  a  spiral  shell 
called  the  cochlea,  and  the  semicircular  canals,  and  con- 
taining a  clear  liquid.  The  matter  affecting  the  organ- 
ism is  in  a  state  of  vibration.  Going  in  by  the  external 
ear,  the  vibrations  strike  a  membrane,  the  tympanum, 
and  aie  transmitted  to  a  chain  of  bones.   The  stirrup  bone 


HEARING. 


37 


communicates  beats  to  the  opening  of  the  labyrinth,  and 
compresses  the  liquid,  and  this  affects  the  auditory 
nerve,  which  carries  on  the  action  to  the  brain.  Each 
bag  of  the  labyrinth  is  filled  with  fluid,  and  floats  in  fluid. 
It  contains  mobile  ear-stones,  that  beat  like  pebbles  on 
the  ciliated  epithelium,  which  is  richly  supplied  with 
nerves.  The  semicircular  canals  are  engaged  in  main- 
taining our  equilibrium.  Through  them  rapid  rotation 
of  the  body  causes  vertigo. 

Auditory  sensations  are  more  delicate  and  agreeable 
than  those  furnished  by  any  of  the  other  senses,  and  differ 


n 
Fio.  7. 

Hairs  supplied  with  nerrei 
(n)  in  ampulleo  of  ear. 
The  Tibrations  of  tlie 
fliiid  move  the  hairs. 


Fig.  6.    Heabino. 

DiAOBAM  OP  Fibres  op  Corti  :  A  c,  hair  cell ;  if,  Inner  fibre; 

n,  nerves  ;    of,  outer  fibre. 

in  intensity,  in  quantity,  and  in  tone. 
The  melodies  and  harmonies  of  mu- 
sic stir  up  emotion,  and  by  their  con- 
tinuance trains  of  emotional  thought. 
The  ear  can  appreciate  very  nice 
differences  of  sound,  and  the  intel- 
lect is  roused  to  interpret  the  articulate  sounds  of  the 
human  voice.  The  fibres  of  Corti  are  situated  in  the 
cochlea.  They  are  said  to  have  6,000  inner,  and  4,500 
Duter  rods,  and  there  are  adjoining  hair  cells  well  sup- 
plied with  nerves.  They  are  usually  supposed  to  be  or- 
gans of  music,  and  every  tone  affects  a  proper  key  of 
Corti's  fibres.  It  seems  certain  that  they  somehow  give 
the  appreciation  of  sounds.  They  enable  us  to  distin- 
2uish  intensitv  of  sounds  and  differences  in  time. 


38  SENSE-PERCEPTION. 

Hearing  has  its  centre  in  the  Superior  Temporo-sphenoidal  Con- 
volution (Fig.  1,  B).  When  this  is  destroyed  there  is  no  response 
to  the  usual  forms  of  auditory  stimuli,  such  as  calling,  whistling,  and 
knocking. 

According  to  a  report  by  M.  Elie  de  Cyon  on  the  Semicircular 
Canals  and  the  Sense  of  Space  (see  "  Mind,"  October,  1878):  (1.) 
Through  the  semicircular  canals  we  obtain  a  series  of  unconscious 
sensations  bearing  on  the  position  of  the  head  in  space.  (2.)  Each 
canal  has  a  strictly  determinate  relation  to  one  of  the  dimensions  of 
space.  (3.)  The  loss  of  movement  observed  upon  section  of  the  canals 
is  due  to  the  disturbance  of  the  normal  sensations  of  which  they 
are  the  organs."  It  is  said  we  possess  in  the  semicircular  canals  an 
organ  "  fitted  to  form  a  notion  of  a  space  in  three  dimensions."  The 
semicircular  canals  are  the  peripheral  organs  of  the  sense  of  space ; 
that  is  to  say,  the  sensations  created  through  the  nerve  endings  in 
the  ampullae  of  the  canals  serve  to  form  our  notions  of  the  three  di- 
mensions of  space,  the  sensations  of  each  canal  corresponding  with 
one  of  the  dimensions.  By  means  of  these  sensations,  there  is 
formed  in  our  brain  the  representation  of  an  ideal  space,  to  which 
are  referred  all  the  perceptions  of  objects  around  us,  and  the  posi- 
tion of  our  body  among  these  objects.  The  nature  of  the  ideas 
given  by  this  apparatus  needs  to  be  carefully  sifted. 

SECTION   IX. 

TOUCH    PROPER,    OR   FEELING. 

In  it  we  have  sensation  and  perception  more  intimately 
connected  than  in  any  other  sense.  The  sensation  arises 
from  the  sensor  nerves,  proceeding  from  every  part 
of  the  periphery  of  the  body  to  the  sensorlum  in  the 
brain.  The  organ  is  the  skin,  and  touch  is  often  called 
the  skin-sense  by  the  Germans.  The  skin  consists  of  two 
layers,  the  outer  or  cuticle,  which  is  meant  for  protection 
and  is  insensible,  and  the  true  skin,  with  its  sensitive 
points  called  papillas  lying  under.  Remove  the  epithe- 
lium and  the  sense  of  touch  and  that  of  temperature  are 
lost.  The  most  sensitive  parts  of  the  body  are  the  tips 
f>f  the  tongue,  of  the  fingers  and  the  lips  ;  this  is  probabl» 


TOUCH  PROPER,  OR  FEELING. 


39 


because  of  the  nei'ves  generated  at  these  jtoints  by  use. 
The  sensibility  may  be  created  from  witliin,  but  is  com- 
monly awakened  by  pressure  from  without,  which  affects 
the  papillai  and  associated  nerves. 

We  are  leil  naturally  (the 
nature  may  have  been  acquired 
by  heredity)  to  refer  the  action 
to  the  point  at  which  the  sensor 
nerve  terminates.  If  we  prick 
a  nerve  which  reaches  the  raid- 
finger,  the  pain  is  felt  there. 
If  we  stretch  or  pinch  the  ulnar 
nerve  by  pushing  it  from  side 
to  side  or  compressing  with  the 
fingers,  the  shock  is  felt  in  the 
part  to  which  its  ultimate 
branchlets  are  distributed, 
namely,  in  the  palm  and  back 
of  the  hand  and  in  the  fourth  Fig.  s. 

and  fifth  fingers 
the  pressure  is  varied  the  prick 
ing  sensation  is  felt  by  turns  in  the  fourth  finger,  in  the 
fifth,  in  the  palm  of  the  hand  or  back  of  the  hand  ;  and 
both  on  the  palm  and  on  the  back  of  the  hand  the  situa- 
tion of  the  pricking  sensation  is  different  according  as  the 
pressure  on  the  nerve  is  varied  ;  that  is  to  say,  according 
as  different  fibres  or  fasciculi  of  fibi-es  are  more  pressed 
upon  than  others.  The  same  will  be  found  to  be  the  case 
in  irritating  the  nerve  in  the  upper  arm  "  (Miiller's  "Phys- 
iology "  by  Baley,  p.  740).  So  strong  is  this  tendency 
to  localize  the  sensation  at  the  extremity  of  the  nerves, 
that  when  an  arm  or  leg  is  amputated  the  person  has 
still  the  feeling  of  the  lost  limb.  MUller  has  collected  a 
.number  of  such  cases.     "  A  student  named  Schmitz  had 


According  as    T)iaQRAm  of  tactile  Corposcle  op  I'm 
CER,  with  nerres  (n)  entering  it. 


40  SENSE-PERCEPTION. 

his  arm  amputated  above  the  elbow  thirteen  years  ago ; 
he  has  never  ceased  to  have  sensations  as  if  in  the  fingers. 
I  applied  pressure  to  the  nerves  in  the  stump,  and  M. 
Sohmitz  immediately  felt  the  whole  arm,  even  the  fingers, 
as  if  asleep."  "  A  toll-keeper  in  the  neighborhood  of 
Halle,  whose  right  arm  had  been  shattered  by  a  cannon- 
ball  in  battle,  above  the  elbow,  twenty  years  ago,  and 
afterwards  amputated,  has  still,  in  1833,  at  the  time  of 
changes  of  the  weather,  distinct  rheumatic  pains  which 
seem  to  him  to  exist  in  the  whole  arm,  and  though  re- 
moved long  ago  the  lost  part  is  at  those  times  felt 
as  if  sensible  to  draughts  of  air.  This  man  also  com- 
pletely confirmed  our  statement  that  the  sense  of  the 
integrity  of  the  limb  was  never  lost."  When  there  is  a 
change  made  artificially  in  the  peripheral  extremities  of 
nerves,  the  sensations  are  felt  as  if  in  the  original  spots, 
"  When  in  the  restoration  of  a  nose  a  flap  of  skin  is  turned 
down  from  the  forehead  and  made  to  unite  with  the 
stump  of  the  nose,  the  new  nose  thus  formed  has,  as  long 
as  the  isthmus  of  skin  by  which  it  maintains  its  original 
nerve-supply  remains  undivided,  the  same  sensations  as 
if  it  were  still  on  the  forehead ;  in  other  words,  when  the 
nose  is  touched  the  patient  feels  the  impression  in  the 
forehead.  This  is  a  fact  well  known  to  surgeons,  and 
was  first  observed  by  Lisfranc." 

Whatever  it  may  have  been  originally,  all  this  is  now 
natural,  very  probably  handed  down  by  heredity.  "  Pro- 
fessor Valentin  ('  Repert  f  iir  Anat.  und  Phys.'  1836,  p. 
330)  has  observed  that  individuals  who  are  the  subjects 
of  congenital  imperfection  or  absence  of  the  extremities 
have,  nevertheless,  the  internal  sensations  of  such  limbs 
in  their  perfect  state.  A  girl,  aged  nineteen  years,  in 
whom  the  metacarpal  bones  of  the  left  hand  were  very 
short  and  all  the  bones  of  the  phalanges  absent,  a  row  o* 


TOUCH  PROPER,  OR  FEELING.  41 

imperfectly  organized,  wart-like  projections  representing 
the  fingers,  assured  M.  Valentin  that  she  had  constantly 
the  internal  sensation  of  a  palm  of  the  hand  and  five 
fingers  on  the  left  side  as  perfect  as  on  the  right.  When 
a  ligature  was  placed  round  the  stump  she  had  the  sen- 
sation of  formication  in  the  hand  and  fingers,  and  press- 
ure on  the  ulnar  nerve  gave  rise  to  the  ordinary  feeling 
of  the  third,  fourth,  and  fifth  fingers  being  asleep,  al- 
though these  fingers  did  not  exist.  The  examination  of 
three  other  individuals  gave  the  same  results."  (lb. 
p.  747.) 

By  the  simultaneous  sensations  we  have  a  perception  of 
a  plurality  of  points,  and  we  feel  our  bodily  frame,  as  it 
were,  round  about  us,  Miiller  maintains  that  in  this 
way  we  get  a  knowledge  of  the  greater  number  of  the 
parts  of  the  body  and  in  all  the  dimensions  of  space,  and 
that  when  our  body  comes  into  collision  with  another 
body,  if  the  shock  be  suflBciently  strong,  the  sensation  of 
our  body  to  a  certain  depth  is  awakened,  and  there  arises 
a  sensation  of  the  contusion  in  the  whole  dimensions  of 
the  cube.  If  this  be  true,  then  this  sense  gives  us  a 
knowledge  of  our  body  as  extended  in  three  dimensions. 

The  primitive  knowledge  given  by  this  sense  seems,  as 
in  the  case  of  taste,  smell,  and  hearing,  to  be  intra-organic, 
though  of  course  extra-mental.  But  by  experience  we 
come  to  know  that  there  are  extra-organic  bodies  affect- 
ing us  and  the  cause  of  the  sensations,  and  may  thus 
come  with  the  aid  of  the  muscular  sense  to  be  cogni- 
zant of  the  hardness  and  softness,  roughness  and  smooth- 
ness of  the  bodies  touching  us.  It  seems  now  to  be 
ascertained  that  temperature  is  an  affection  of  the  tactile 
nerves.  It  is  felt  as  a  sensation  of  our  bodily  organs. 
The  extra-organic  cause  is  determined  by  experience  and 
reasoning  upon  it. 


42  SENSE-PERCEPTION. 

Touch  has  its  centre  in  the  Hippocampal  region.  (Fig.  2,  K,  p.  6,) 
"  Desti'uctive  lesions  of  this  region  aboUsh  tactile  sensation  on  the 
opposite  side  of  the  body." 

SECTION  X. 

THE   MUSCULAR   SENSE. 

This  is  intimately  connected  with  Touch  Proper,  but 
differs  from  it  essentially.  The  organic  apparatus  consists 
first  of  a  motor  nerve,  proceeding  from  the  lower  part 
of  the  brain  to  a  muscle.  We  will  to  move  an  organ, 
say  the  arm,  and  the  motor  nerve  carries  the  action  to 
the  muscle.  This  part  of  the  process  has  been  called  the 
Locomotive  Energy.  We  know  that  the  muscle  has 
been  moved  and  resistance  offered,  by  a  sensor  nerve 
attached  and  carrying  the  intimation  to  the  brain.  In 
this  sense  as  in  every  other  there  is  sensation,  but  per- 
ception is  vastly  predominant.  By  the  senses  which 
have  come  before  us  hitherto,  we  seem  merely  to  know 
our  frame  with  its  parts  out  of  each  other.  By  this 
sense  we  know  objects  out  of  and  beyond  our  body  and 
as  resisting  our  energy.  The  senses  already  noticed  have 
given  us  linear  direction,  probably  also  surface,  plane  or 
perhaps  curved  ;  they  have  certainly  given  us  points  of 
space  as  separated ;  this  gives  us  bodies  in  three  dimen: 
sions.  We  press  on  a  solid  body  and  along  its  surface, 
and  along  its  sides  and  around  it,  and  thus  get  the  idea 
of  solidity  or  impenetrability.  The  muscular  sense,  in- 
cluding in  it  the  volition  and  the  resistance,  first  gives  us 
the  idea  of  Power,  Potency,  Energy,  or  Force,  out  of 
which  proceeds  our  idea  and  conviction  as  to  Causation. 

While  Feeling  and  the  Muscular  Sense  are  different, 
Ibe  one  being  intra-organic  and  the  other  extra-organio 
yet  they  commonly  act  at  the  same  time  and  together. 
They  unite  to  give  us  the  sense  of  pressure  which  arises 


VISION.  48 

from  the  force  with  which  a  body  presses  on  our  nerves 
of  feeling  and  is  resisted  by  muscular  action.  A  body 
is  laid  on  our  skin  and  we  estimate  its  weight  by  the 
amount  of  force  which  we  use  in  order  to  lift  it.  By 
practice  people  may  become  very  expert  in  weighing 
objects.  Those  who  have  to  mix  materials  in  definite 
proportions  can  often  do  so  without  the  use  of  a  machine, 
and  the  officers  in  a  post-office  can  tell  the  weight  of  a 
letter  by  simply  placing  it  on  their  hand. 

SECTION  XI. 


This  is  in  many  i-espects  the  highest  and  most  intel- 
lectual of  all  the  senses.  It  is  also  the  most  complicated. 
I  am  not  sure  that  all  its  mysteries  have  yet  been  cleared 
up.  Much,  however,  is  known.  We  have  to  contemplate 
it  simply  as  giving  us  a  perception. 

The  ball  of  tlie  eye  is  a  globe  moving  freely  in  a  cham- 
ber, the  orbit.  It  has  a  firm,  tough,  spheroidal  case,  the 
greater  part  of  which  is  white  and  opaque,  called  the 
sclerotic.  In  front  is  what  is  called  the  cornea,  which  is 
transparent.  Light  enters  by  the  cornea,  and  thence 
passes  into  the  aqueous  humor,  consisting  mainly  of  wa- 
ter. It  then  passes  through  the  gateway  of  the  iris  into 
the  denser  crystalline  lens,  where  it  is  refracted  ac- 
jording  to  the  shape  and  consistency  of  the  lens.  It 
now  passes  through  the  vitreous  humor,  which  is  a  sort 
■)f  jelly,  to  the  retina,  where  it  forms  an  inverted  image 
of  the  object  from  which  it  has  come.  On  the  retina 
it  impacts  on  rods  and  cones  which  are  connected  with 
the  optic  nerve.  The  estimated  number  of  cones  in 
the  human  eye  is  3,360,000;  the  number  of  rods  is 
act  known.     The  rods  have  a  pigment  which  is  bleached 


44 


SENSE-PERCEPTION. 


by  liglit  and  restored  in  darkness.  We  do  not  know  tho 
full  functions  of  these  rods  and  cones  ;  they  seem,  how- 
ever, to  be  connected  with  the  formation  of  the  figure, 


Fig.  9.    Vision. 


DUdKAH  or  Etes.    a,  left  eye-ball,  ehowlng  the  maseles ;  B,  right  eye  in  seetlon ;  0| 

section  of  retina,  magnified,  showing  rods  and  cones,  aq.  A.,  aqueous  humor ;  U.  t,, 
blind  spot ;  eo.,  cornea  ;  cr.  I.,  crystalline  lens ;  )>.,  iris  ;  I.  g.,  lachrymal  gland  ;  op 
com..,  optio  commissure  (the  arrows  mark  the  course  of  the  optic  tracts  to  the 
brain) ;  op.  n.,  optio  nerve  ;  o.s.,  superior  oblique  muscle;  r.«.,  rectus  externus  mus- 
cle ;  r.  I.,  rectus  interuus ;  r.  m.,  retinal  margin  ;  r.  .t.,  rectus  superior  muscle  j  ret., 
retina  ;  scl.,  sclerotic  ;  ss.  lig.,  suspensory  ligament  of  lens ;  (.  sh.,  tendinous  sheath 
of  nerve  ;  vit.  h.,  vitreous  humor  ;  y.  s.,  yellow  spot  (where  vision  is  most  distinct) 
The  points  of  the  rods  and  cones  at  C  are  directed  baelnoard  in  the  retina. 

certainly  of  the  color.  There  is  no  vision  at  the  point 
where  the  light  falls  on  the  optic  nerve,  and  it  is  called 
the  blind  spot,  which  has  no  cones  or  rods.  Vision  is 
most  acute  at  a  yellow  spot  which  is  full  of  clo.se-8et 


VISION  4a 

3ones.  Distinctness  of  vision  requires  that  objects  shall 
be  so  far  apart  that  their  images  on  the  retina  sliall  reach 
more  than  one  cone.  The  luminous  action  remains  not 
only  during  the  time  the  light  is  shining,  but  an  appre- 
ciable time  after.  The  retina  in  some  persons  seems  to 
be  affected  in  the  same  way  by  various  colors.  This 
gives  rise  to  color-blindness,  so  that  the  person  cannot 
distinguish  between  the  green  leaves  of  a  tree  and  it? 
red  fruit. 

There  are  large  muscles,  straight  and  oblique,  which 
keep  the  eye  in  its  place  and  direct  its  axis,  so  that  we 
can  carefully  gaze  on  and  inspect  the  object.  Were  the 
eye-ball  fixed,  our  knowledge  by  the  eye  would  be  very 
imperfect.  INIotion  in  this  sense  greatly  helps  us  in  our 
perception  of  objects. 

Intuitively  we  perceive  by  the  eye  a  colored  surface, 
iind  I  believe  nothing  more.  This  surface  is  felt  as  af- 
fecting us.  But  by  a  gathered  experience  and  reasoning 
upon  it,  we  can  extend  our  knowledge  indefinitely.  It 
had  been  surmised  by  several  persons  before,  as  by  Locke, 
but  was  established  by  Bishop  Berkeley,  the  Irish  meta- 
physician, in  "  New  Theory  of  Vision  "  (1709),  that  orig- 
inally we  have  no  knowledge  of  linear  distance  by  the 
eyes.  On  looking  forward  we  have  simply  a  perception 
,)f  a  colored  surface  affecting  us,  at  what  distance  we  can- 
not tell.  This  theory  has  since  been  confirmed  by  the  ob- 
servation of  the  cases  of  persons  born  blind,  but  whose 
eyes  were  subsequently  couched  so  that  they  could  se^'. 
I  shall  mention  three  of  these  cases. 

Cheselden  Case. — The  boy  was  between  thirteen  and 
fourteen  years  of  age  when  his  eye  was  couched  by  Dr. 
Cheselden  (see  "  Trans,  of  Royal  Society,"  1727).  When 
he  first  saw,  he  was  so  far  from  making  any  judgmen,* 
about   distances,   that  he  thought  all   objects   whatevei 


46  SENSE-PERCEPTION. 

touched  bis  eyes  (as  he  expressed  it),  as  what  lie  felt  did 
his  skin,  and  thought  no  objects  so  agreeable  as  those 
which  were  smooth  and  regular,  though  he  could  form  no 
judgment  of  their  shape  or  guess  what  it  was  in  any  ob- 
ject that  was  pleasing  to  him.  He  knew  not  the  shape 
of  anything,  nor  any  one  thing  from  another,  however 
different  in  shape  or  magnitude,  but  being  told,  what 
things  were,  whose  form  he  before  knew  from  feeling,  he 
would  carefully  observe  that  he  might  know  them  again  ; 
but  having  too  many  objects  to  learn  at  once,  he  forgot 
many  of  them,  and  (as  he  said)  at  first  learned  to  know 
and  again  forget  a  thousand  things  in  a  day.  One  par- 
ticular only,  though  it  may  appear  trifling,  I  will  relate. 
Having  often  forgot  which  was  the  cat  and  which  the 
dog,  he  was  ashamed  to  ask,  but  catching  the  cat,  which 
he  knew  by  feeling,  he  was  observed  to  look  at  her  stead- 
fastly, and  then  putting  her  down  said,  "  Puss,  so  I  shall 
know  you  another  time."  We  thought  he  soon  knew 
what  pictures  represented  which  were  shown  him  ;  but 
we  found  afterwards  we  were  mistaken,  for  about  two 
months  after  he  was  couched  he  discovered  at  once  they 
represented  solid  bodies,  when  to  that  time  he  considered 
them  only  as  party-colored  planes  or  surfaces,  diversified 
with  variety  of  paiuts  ;  but  even  then  he  was  no  less  sur- 
prised, expecting  the  pictures  would  feel  like  the  things 
they  represented,  and  was  amazed  when  he  found  those 
parts  which  by  their  light  and  shadow  appeared  now 
round,  and  even  felt  flat  like  the  rest ;  and  asked  which 
was  the  lying  sense,  feeling  or  seeing." 

Franz  Case  ("  Phil.  :  Trans,  of  Royal  Society,"  1841). 
The  youth  had  been  born  blind  and  was  seventeen  years 
of  age  when  his  eye  was  couched  by  Dr.  Franz,  of  Leip- 
sic.  When  the  eye  was  sufliciently  restored  to  bear  the 
light,  "  a  sheet  of  paper  on  which  two  strong  black  line? 


VISION.  47 

nad  been  drawn,  the  one  hoi'izontal,  the  other  vertical, 
was  placed  before  hiin  at  the  distance  of  about  three  feet. 
He  was  now  allowed  to  open  the  eye,  and  after  attentive 
examination  be  called  the  lines  by  their  right  denomina- 
tions." "  The  outline  in  black  of  a  square,  six  inches  in 
diameter,  within  which  a  circle  had  been  drawn,  and 
within  the  latter  a  triangle,  was,  after  careful  examina- 
tion, recognized  and  correctly  described  by  him."  "  At 
the  distance  of  three  feet,  and  on  a  level  with  the  eye,  a 
solid  cube  and  a  sphere,  each  of  four  inches  diameter,  were 
placed  before  him."  "  After  attentively  examining  these 
bodies,  he  said  he  saw  a  quadrangular  and  a  circular  fig- 
ure, and  after  some  consideration  he  pronounced  the  one 
a  sqvare  and  the  other  a  disc.  His  eye  being  then  closed, 
the  cube  was  taken  away  and  a  disc  of  equal  size  substi- 
tuted and  placed  next  to  the  sphere.  On  again  opening 
his  eye  he  observed  no  difference  in  these  objects,  but 
regarded  them  both  as  discs.  The  solid  cube  was  now 
placed  in  a  somewhat  oblique  position  before  the  eye, 
and  close  beside  it  a  figure  cut  out  of  pasteboard,  repre- 
senting a  plane  outline  prospect  of  the  cube  when  in  this 
position.  Both  objects  he  took  to  be  something  like  flat 
quadrates.  A  p^n-aniid  placed  before  him  with  one  of 
its  sides  towards  his  eye  lie  saw  as  a  plain  triangle.  This 
object  was  now  turned  a  little  so  as  to  present  two  of  its 
sides  to  view,  but  rather  more  of  one  side  than  of  the 
other :  after  considering  and  examining  it  for  a  long 
time,  he  said  that  this  was  a  very  extraordinary  figure ; 
it  was  neither  a  triangle,  nor  a  quadrangle,  nor  a  circle  ; 
he  had  no  idea  of  it,  and  could  not  describe  it ;  'In  fact,' 
said  he,  '  I  must  give  it  up.'  On  the  conclusion  of  these 
experiments,  I  asked  him  to  describe  the  sensations  the 
objects  had  produced  ;  whereupon  he  said  that  imme- 
diately on  opening  his  eye  he  had  discovered  a  differenca 


18  SENSE-PERCEPTION. 

in  the  two  objects,  the  cube  and  the  sphere,  placed  be- 
fore him,  and  perceived  that  they  were  not  drawings ; 
but  that  he  had  not  been  able  to  form  from  them  the 
idea  of  a  square  and  a  disc  until  he  perceived  a  sensation 
of  what  he  saw  in  the  points  of  his  fingers,  as  if  he  really 
touched  the  objects.  When  I  gave  the  three  bodies  (the 
sphere,  cube,  and  pyramid)  into  his  hand,  he  was  much 
surprised  that  he  had  not  recognized  them  as  such  by 
sight,  as  he  was  well  acquainted  with  mathematical  fig- 
ui-es  by  his  touch."  "  When  the  patient  first  acquired 
the  faculty  of  sight,  all  objects  appeared  to  him  so  near 
that  he  was  sometimes  afraid  of  coming  in  contact  with 
them,  though  they  were  in  reality  at  a  great  distance  from 
him.  All  objects  appeared  to  him  perfectly  flat ;  thus, 
although  he  very  well  knew  by  his  touch  that  his  nose 
was  prominent  and  the  eyes  sunk  deeper  in  the  head,  he 
Baw  the  human  face  only  as  a  plane." 

These  observations  show  that  the  eye  takes  in  surface 
and  superficial  figurie  at  once,  but  cannot  discern  solidity. 
If  the  persons  have  the  use  of  both  eyes,  they  will  ob- 
serve the  difference  between  a  disc  and  a  solid,  but  they 
would  not  be  able  to  say  till  they  feel  it  that  the  latter 
is  a  solid.  It  requires  to  be  added,  that  those  who  have 
their  sight  thus  given  them  require  observation  and 
thought  to  reconcile  the  information  they  had  got  from 
touch  with  that  which  they  are  now  receiving  from  sight ; 
just  as  people  who  have  learned  two  languages,  say  Ger- 
man and  French,  require  practice  in  order  to  enable  them 
readily  to  translate  the  one  into  the  other. 

Another  portion  of  this  report  is  worthy  of  being  re- 
corded, as  showing  how  the  memory  and  the  fancy  depend 
»n  the  senses.  "  Though  he  possessed  an  excellent  mem- 
ory, this  faculty  was  at  first  quite  deficient  as  regarded 
riaible  objects ;  he  was  not  able,  for  example,  to  recog- 


VISION.  49 

aize  visitors,  unless  he  beard  them  speak,  till  he  had  seen 
them  very  frequently.  Even  when  he  had  seen  the  ob- 
ject repeatedly,  he  could  form  no  idea  of  visible  qualities 
in  his  imagination  without  having  the  real  object  before 
him.  Heretofoi'e,  when  he  dreamed  of  any  persons,  of 
his  parents,  for  instance,  he  felt  them  and  heard  their 
voices,  but  never  saw  them  ;  but  now,  after  having  seen 
them  frequently,  he  saw  them  also  in  his  dreams." 

Trinchinetti  Case.  —  Mr.  Abbot  (in  "  Sight  and 
Touch  ")  gives  an  account  of  the  observations  of  Trin- 
chinetti :  "  He  operated  at  the  same  time  on  two  patients 
(brother  and  sister),  eleven  and  ten  years  old  respectively. 
The  same  day,  having  caused  the  boy  to  examine  an  orange, 
he  placed  it  about  one  metre  from  him  and  bade  him  try 
to  take  it.  The  boy  brought  his  hand  close  to  his  eye,  and 
closing  his  fist  found  it  empty,  to  his  great  surprise.  He 
then  tried  again  a  few  inches  from  his  eye,  and  at  last. 
in  this  tentative  way,  succeeded  in  taking  the  orange, 
When  tlie  same  experiment  was  tried  with  the  girl,  she 
also  at  first  attempted  to  grasp  the  orange  with  her  hand 
very  near  the  eye,  then,  perceiving  her  error,  stretched 
out  her  forefinger  and  pushed  it  in  a  straight  line  slowly 
until  she  reached  her  object."  Trinchinetti  "regards 
these  observations  as  indicating  that  visible  objects  were 
in  actual  contact  with  the  eye."  Other  patients  have 
been  observed  (by  Janin  and  Duval)  to  move  tlieir  hands 
in  search  of  objects  in  straight  lines  from  the  eye. 

But  while  the  perception  of  distance  is  not  an  original 
endowment  of  sight,  it  can  be  acquired.  It  should  be 
noticed  that  in  this  acquisition  we  are  much  aided  by 
*he  circumstance  that  while  we  do  not  by  the  eye  per 
aeive  distance  from  us,  we  see  a  flat  surface  with  a  dig* 
tance  between  the  sides. 

Means  hy  which  we  are  able  to  estimate  Distance  by  the 

4 


50  SENSE-PERCEPTION. 

8en»e  of  Sight. —  For  near  objects  there  are  three  special 
aids  provided  in  the  organism  itself,  and  there  are  others 
for  more  distant  objects, 

(1.)  When  we  look  at  near  objects  the  pupil  slightly 
contracts,  and  the  anterior  surface  of  the  crystalline  lens 
becomes  more  convex.  The  process  by  which  this  is  done 
is  a  somewhat  complex  one,  in  which  there  is  probably 
both  reflex  and  voluntary  action.  As  it  takes  place 
there  is  a  strain  in  the  action  of  the  eye,  and  intimation 
is  given  of  this  by  the  attached  nerves.  When  this  strain 
is  felt  we  know  by  experience  that  the  object  is  near. 

(2.)  There  is  a  difference  of  the  parallelism  of  the  rays 
of  light  according  as  the  objects  are  near  or  remote. 
When  objects  are  at  a  distance  the  rays  that  come  from 
them  are  virtually  parallel,  and  the  eye  keeps  its  normal 
shape  in  receiving  them.  But  when  objects  are  near  the 
rays  are  not  parallel  even  approximately,  and  the  eyes 
are  strained  in  taking  them  in.  Announcement  of  this  is 
given  to  the  mind,  not  by  the  eye-balls  directly,  but  by 
the  attached  muscles.  We  come  to  argue  that  the  ob- 
ject is  near  when  the  muscles  are  strained. 

(3.)  There  is  a  difference,  according  as  the  object  is 
remote  or  neai-,  of  the  image  produced  on  the  retina  by 
each  of  the  two  eyes.  When  the  object  is  at  a  distance 
the  figure  given  by  the  two  eyes  does  not  differ  much  from 
that  produced  by  one.  But  when  it  is  near  there  is  a 
sensible  difference.  Place  the  back  of  a  closed  book  be- 
fore the  eyes,  twenty  feet  away,  and  there  will  be  little 
difference  between  the  form  as  given  by  two  eyes  and 
by  one.  Place  it  a  foot  away,  and  we  see  much  more  of 
the  two  sides  by  the  two  eyes  than  by  one.  There  are 
Other  means  which  apply  to  objects  at  all  distances. 

(4.)  There  is  the  difference  of  relative  size  of  the  felt 
impression  on  the  retina,  as  the  objects  are  near  or  dis- 


VISION.  51 

fcant.  A  penny  placed  close  to  the  eye  may  occupy  the 
whole  field  of  vision,  may,  according  to  the  proverb,  hide 
the  sun  from  the  view.  Place  it  at  some  distance  and 
it  will  occupy  a  comparatively  small  space  in  the  figure 
painted  on  the  retina. 

(5.)  When  an  object,  say  a  watch,  is  at  a  distance,  the 
rays  of  light  that  come  from  it  produce  a  much  feebler 
impression  on  our  organism  than  when  it  is  near.  We 
argue  that  an  object  is  far  off  when  its  color  is  faint  and 
its  outline  hazy.  We  infer  that  it  is  near  when  its  color 
is  bright  and  its  figure  distinct. 

(6.)  In  our  reasonings  about  the  distance  of  objects  we 
are  much  guided  by  the  number  of  intermediate  objects 
on  which  the  eye  can  rest.  When  these  objects  are 
numerous  we  conclude  that  the  object  must  be  at  some 
distance,  and  when  they  are  few  we  are  apt  to  argue 
that  it  must  be  near.  This  rule  often  enables  us  to  guess 
very  rapidly  at  the  distance  of  objects.  On  the  other 
hand,  as  we  shall  immediately  see,  it  may  often  lead  ua 
into  error  by  being  illegitimately  applied. 

(7.)  We  are  often  guided  in  our  estimate  of  the  dis- 
tance of  an  object  by  its  known  size.  The  object,  let  me 
suppose,  is  evidently  a  human  being,  a  man  or  woman, 
and  occupies  a  certain  place  in  the  retinal  affection.  The 
image  is  very  small  and  we  conclude  that  the  object,  man 
or  woman,  must  be  at  a  distance.  Or,  it  is  large,  and 
we  infer  that  the  object  is  close  to  us.^ 

When  both  eyes  are  in  healthy  exercise  there  is  a 
double   image   on   the   retina.     But   the   object  is  seen 

i"I  shall  say  nothing,"  says  Sidney  Smith,  "of  the  moral 
method  of  measuring  distances  ;  *he  distance  from  home  to  school  in 
?he  days  of  our  youth  being  generally  double  the  distance  from 
ichool  to  home,  and  so  with  all  other  passages  which  quicken  or  r^ 
terd  the  feeling  of  I'me." 


52  SENSE-PERCEPTION. 

though  there  be  only  one  image.  The  object  Is  perceived 
as  single  when  the  images  are  thrown  on  the  proper  parts 
of  the  retina.  When  they  are  not  so,  the  object  may  be 
double  or  misplaced. 

The  image  on  the  retina  is  inverted.  The  arrow  with 
the  point  up  has  the  point  down  in  the  retinal  image  ; 
yet  the  object  is  seen  upright.  This  circumstance  has 
puzzled  many.  The  puzzle  arises  from  the  circumstance 
that  people  imagine  that  there  must  be  an  inner  eye  of 
some  kind  looking  at  the  retinal  image  ;  whereas  that 
image  is  not  seen  by  any  but  the  physiologist  pursuing 
his  researches.  It  is,  in  fact,  a  mere  mechanism,  or 
means  to  let  us  know  the  shape  and  direction  of  the 
object;  and  it  is  governed  by  the  law  of  visible  direc- 
tion, which  is,  when  the  rays  strike  the  retina  we  trace 
them  back  along  the  line  by  which  they  have  come. 
The  rays  at  the  base  of  the  retinal  figure  have  come  from 
the  top  of  the  object,  say  an  arrow,  and  we  place  them 
at  the  top,  while  those  at  the  top  have  come  from  the 
foot,  thus  giving  the  object  its  real  position. 

We  are  now  in  the  heart  of  a  subject  which  deserves  a 
brief  separate  consideration. 

SECTION  XII. 

OUR  ACQUIRED  PERCEPTIONS. 

They  are  acquired  by  a  gathered  observation  and  by 
reasoning  from  this.  In  Taste  our  original  perception  is 
of  the  palate  as  affected,  but  Ave  infer  from  repeated 
eases  that  this  taste  is  caused  by  water  and  this  by  bread 
or  by  beef,  and  the  perception  by  practice  may  become 
very  acute.  In  Smell,  we  know  at  first  only  an  affection 
of  the  nostrils,  but  we  come  to  know  by  reasoning  upon 
experience  that  this  odor  proceeds  from  a  rose  and  this 


OUR   ACQUIRED   PERCEPTIONS.  53 

Dther  from  a  lily,  at  this  side  or  that  side  of  us,  according 
as  it  affects  more  strongly  the  right  or  the  ]ef t  nostril,  and 
that  the  known  smell  must  come  from  a  near  or  remote 
object  according  to  its  intensity.  In  Feeling  we  seem  to 
perceive  intuitively  only  the  peripherj'  of  our  bodies,  but 
we  conclude  that  this  agreeable  sensation  comes  from  a 
wholesome  atmosphere,  and  this  painful  one  from  a  blow 
or  from  excessive  heat  or  cold.  In  Hearing  we  know 
directly  our  ear  as  affected,  but  we  gather  that  the  sound 
comes  from  the  right  when  it  is  stronger  in  the  right  ear 
and  from  the  left  when  it  is  more  intense  in  the  left  ear ; 
and  that  this  sound  is  issued  by  a  human  voice,  and  this 
other  by  the  wind  or  by  a  drum.  By  the  muscular 
sense  we  may  come  to  know  very  accurately  the  pressure 
implied  in  a  blow,  or  the  weight  of  au  object  lying  on 
our  hand  or  any  other  part  of  the  body.  Attention  has 
been  already  called  to  the  way  in  which  we  are  able  to 
estimate  distance  by  sight.  There  are  other  acquired 
ocular  perceptions  which  should  be  noticed. 

We  judge  of  the  size  of  objects  by  comparison  of  them 
with  other  objects  whose  size  we  know.  I  see  a  plant 
unknown  to  me  alongside  a  figure  which  I  know  to  be 
that  of  a  cow,  and  I  determine  the  height  of  the  plant  be- 
cause I  am  acquainted  with  the  height  of  the  cow.  Pro- 
ceeding on  this  principle,  a  painter,  when  he  wishes  us  to 
appreciate  the  height  of  a  building,  or  of  a  pi-ecipice, 
places  a  man  or  woman  in  front  of  it.  If  he  wishes  us 
to  know  that  this  animal  is  a  foal,  he  places  beside  it  a 
full-grown  horse. 

We  can  come  to  know  the  solidity  of  objects  by  means 
of  binocular  vision.  Primarily,  we  become  acquainted 
witli  the  three  dimensions  of  bodies  by  means  of  the  mus- 
cular sense,  by  which  we  feel  round  them  and  grasp 
them.     The  eye,  we  have  seen,  perceives  intuitively  only 


54  SENSE-PERCEPTION. 

a  colored  surface,  and  a  solid  is  noticed  as  a  plane  sur- 
face. No  doubt  it  might  see  a  sphere  and  a  cube  to  be 
different,  but  it  would  not  discei'n  the  cube  to  be  a  cube. 
But  when  a  solid  object  is  not  remote,  each  eye  gives  a 
different  aspect  of  it.  By  combining  the  two  perspec- 
tives, we  come  to  know  the  object  as  having  three  dimen- 
sions. Those  who  have  but  one  eye  make  up  for  their 
want  by  moving  the  head  from  side  to  side,  so  as  to  obtain 
the  same  views  as  are  to  be  had  by  the  two  eyes. 

"Mr.  Saunderson,  the  blind  matliomatician,  could  distinguish  by  his 
hand,  in  a  series  of  Roman  medals,  the  true  from  the  counterfeit, 
with  a  more  unerring  discrimination  than  the  eye  of  a  professed  vir- 
tuoso, and  wlien  he  was  present  at  the  astronomical  observations  in 
the  garden  of  the  college,  he  was  accustomed  to  perceive  every  cloud 
which  passed  over  the  sun.  Tliis  remarkable  power,  which  has  some- 
times been  referred  to  an  increased  intensity  of  particular  senses,  in 
many  cases  evidently  resolves  itself  into  an  increased  habit  of  atten- 
tion to  the  indications  of  all  those  senses  which  the  individual  retains. 
Two  instances  have  been  related  to  uie  of  blind  men  who  were  much 
esteemed  as  judges  of  horses.  One  of  these,  in  giving  his  opinion 
of  a  liorse,  ileclared  him  to  be  blind,  though  this  had  escaped  the  ob- 
servation of  several  persons  who  Iiad  tlie  use  of  their  eyes,  and  who 
were  with  some  difficulty  convinced  of  it.  Being  asked  to  give  an 
account  of  the  principle  on  whicli  he  had  decided,  he  said  it  was  by 
the  sound  of  the  horse's  step  in  walking,  which  implied  a  peculiar 
and  unusual  caution  in  his  manner  of  putting  down  his  feet.  The 
other  individual,  in  similar  circumstances,  pronounced  a  horse  to  be 
blind  of  one  eye,  though  this  also  had  escaped  the  observation  of 
those  concerned.  When  he  was  asked  to  exi)lain  the  f.act  on  which 
he  formed  his  judgment,  he  said  he  felt  the  one  eye  to  be  colder  than 
the  other.  It  is  related  of  Dr.  Moyse,  the  well-known  blind  philos- 
pher,  that  he  could  distinguish  a  black  dress  on  his  friends  by  its 
smell,  and  there  seems  to  be  good  evidence  that  blind  persons  have 
acquired  the  power  of  distinguishing  colors  by  the  touch.  In  a  case  of 
this  kind  mentioned  by  Mr.  Boyle,  the  individual  stated  that  black  im- 
parted to  his  sense  of  touch  the  greatest  asperity,  and  blue  the  least. 
Dr.  Rush  relates  of  two  blind  men,  brothers,  of  the  city  of  Philadel- 
phia, that  they  knew  when  they  approached  a  post  in  walking  across  a 


APPARENT   DECEPTION  OF   THE   SENSES.  55 

street,  by  a  peculiar  sound  which  the  ground  under  their  feet  emit- 
ted in  the  neighborhood  of  the  post ;  and  that  they  could  tell  the 
names  of  a  number  of  tame  pigeons  with  which  they  amused  them- 
selves in  a  little  garden,  by  only  hearing  thera  fly  over  their  heads. 
I  have  known  several  instances  of  persons  affected  with  that  extreme 
degree  of  deafness  which  occurs  in  the  deaf  and  dumb,  who  had  a 
peculiar  susceptibility  to  particular  kinds  of  sounds,  depending  appar- 
ently upon  an  impression  communicated  to  their  organs  of  touch  or 
simple  sensation.  They  could  tell,  for  instance,  the  approach  of  a 
carriage  in  the  street  without  seeing  it,  before  it  was  taken  notice  of 
by  persons  who  had  the  use  of  all  their  senses.  An  analogous  fact  is 
observed  in  the  habit  acquired  by  the  deaf  and  dumb  of  understand- 
ing what  is  said  to  them  by  watching  the  motion  of  the  lips  of  the 
speaker."  (Abercrombie's  '*  Intellectual  Powers.")  "  An  American 
Indian  has  such  acute  sight  that  he  can  discover  the  prints  of  his 
enemies'  feet,  can  ascertain  their  number  with  the  greatest  exact- 
ness, and  the  length  of  time  which  has  elapsed  since  their  passage; 
he  can  discover  the  fires  and  hear  the  noises  of  his  enemies  when  no 
sign  of  the  contiguity  of  any  human  being  can  be  discovered  by  the 
most  vigilant  European."     (Smith's  "  Moral  Philosophy.") 


SECTION  XIII. 

APPARENT   DECEPTION   OF   THE   SENSES. 

The  Greek  philosophers,  down  to  the  time  of  Aristotle 
(who  corrected  the  mistake),  represented  the  senses  aa 
deceiving  us.  The  distinctions  we  have  drawn,  especially 
that  between  our  original  and  acquired  perceptions,  ena- 
ble us  to  stand  up  for  the  trustworthiness  of  our  sense- 
perceptions.  Our  original  perceptions  are  all  true  to 
facts ;  but  there  may  be  mistakes  in  the  steps  we  take  in 
forming  our  derivative  perceptions.  Our  observations 
may  be  limited,  and  we  may  argue  from  them  as  if  they 
were  unlimited.  The  taste  in  the  mouth,  as  a  mere  or- 
ganic affection,  is  always  what  we  may  feel  it  to  be  ;  but 
we  may  draw  a  wrong  inference  as  to  the  object  in  the 
mouth,  as  to  whether  it  is  beef  or  mutton,  aa  to  wbethei 


66  SENSE-PERCEPTION. 

it  is  sherry  or  madeira  wine ;  and  when  our  palate  or 
stomach  is  deranged,  we  may  regard  sound  meat  as  un- 
sound. We  cannot  be  mistaken  in  regard  to  the  smell 
as  a  sensation,  but  we  may  err  in  our  conclusion  that  it 
is  produced  by  a  certain  object  in  a  certain  direction  at 
a  certain  distance.  For  our  convenience  we  lay  down 
rules  for  our  guidance  as  to  the  objects  falling  under  the 
senses,  which  are  coi*rect  enough  for  ordinary  purposes, 
but  fail  and  mislead  us  in  exceptional  circumstances. 
Sounds  come  to  our  ears  in  straight  lines,  but  the  sound 
coming  from  a  bell  may  be  diverted  by  a  building  in  the 
way,  and  we  trace  the  sound  to  the  direction  from  which 
it  has  last  come.  A  man  with  an  amputated  limb  places 
the  pain  in  it,  because  it  is  precisely  what  he  would  have 
felt  if  the  limb  had  been  entire. 

The  supposed  illusions  are  most  numerous  in  the  use 
of  the  sense  of  sight,  and  this  because  there  are  so  many 
observations  and  ratiocinations  implied  in  our  judg- 
ments in  regard  to  the  position  and  distance  of  objects 
by  that  sense.  We  are  accustomed  to  estimate  distances 
of  an  object  by  the  number  of  visible  objects  coming  be- 
tween us  and  it ;  and  we  are  apt  when  we  are  looking 
across  a  lake  or  an  arm  of  the  sea,  a  level  plain  or  a 
waste  of  sand,  to  regard  them  as  much  nearer  than  they 
are.  We  are  apt  to  draw  a  wrong  inference  when  things 
are  seen  across  a  surface  of  snow.  "  We  had  frequent 
occasion,"  says  Captain  Parry,  "  in  our  walks  on  shore  to 
remai'k  the  deception  which  takes  place  in  estimating  the 
distance  and  magnitude  of  objects  when  viewed  over  an 
unvaried  surface  of  snow.  It  was  not  uncommon  for  us 
to  direct  our  steps  towards  what  we  took  to  be  a  large 
mass  of  stone  at  the  distance  of  half  a  mile  from  us,  but 
which  we  were  able  to  take  up  in  our  hands  after  one 
minute's  walk.     This  was    more   particularly   the   case 


SUPPLEMENTARY  NOTES.  57 

vrhen  ascending  the  brow  of  a  hill."  In  all  these  rea- 
sonings we  start  from  an  assumed  position  and  may  pro- 
ceed illegitimately.  When  he  feels  himself  to  be  at  rest 
on  the  deck  of  a  ship  which  may  in  the  meanwhile  be 
starting  from  the  shore,  the  countryman  starts  up  in 
alarm,  for  he  believes,  momentarily,  that  the  shore  is 
moving.  When  we  are  looking  out  of  a  railway  car- 
riage on  a  train  starting,  we  may  feel  as  if  we  are  mov- 
ing, because  the  carriage  we  are  looking  at  seems  sta- 
tionary, and  we  are  not  assured  of  the  contrary  till  we 
see  it  passing  an  object  which  we  know  to  be  stationary, 
when,  be  it  observed,  we  at  once  accommodate  ourselves 
to  the  actual  position.  "  I  remember,"  says  Abercrom- 
bie,  "  having  occasion  to  pass  along  Ludgate  Hill,  when 
the  great  door  of  St.  Paul's  was  open  and  several  per- 
sons were  standing  in  it.  They  appeared  to  be  very  lit- 
tle children,  but  on  coming  up  to  them  they  were  found 
full-grown  persons.  In  the  mental  process  the  door  had 
been  taken  as  of  a  certain  magnitude  (much  less  than  it 
actually  was)  and  the  other  objects  were  judged  by  it." 
In  a  mist  the  boy  seems  a  man  and  the  man  a  giant, 
because  in  our  common  experience  the  objects  seen  so 
dimly  are  at  a  distance,  and  this  boy  or  man  being  at 
such  a  distance  must  be  very  large  to  fill  such  a  space 
in  our  eye. 

SECTION  XIV. 

SUPPLEMENT AKT  NOTES. 

NOTE  I. 

AS  TO  WHAT  WE  PRIMARILT  PERCEIVE, 

Physiologists  are  seeking  to  find  out  the  organic  processes  involved 
in  the  exercises  of  the  Senses.  Pvschology  should  seek  to  deter- 
mine what  is  the  primary  exercise  of  the  conscious  mind  in  Sense- 
Perception. 


58  SENSE-PERCEPTIOiN. 

Certain  German  savans  have  been  making  diligent  inquiry  into 
the  nature  of  the  organic  processes.  Weber  made  some  curious  ex- 
periments as  to  the  relative  sensibility  of  different  parts  of  the  body, 
showing  how  much  more  sensitive  the  tip  of  the  tongue  is  than  the 
back.  Lotze  has  been  experimenting  and  speculating  as  to  the 
origin  of  our  notion  of  space,  and  discovers  in  each  of  the  senses 
local  signs  which  indicate  the  difference  of  an  impression  from 
others.  According  to  my  view  all  these  local  signs  are  in  the  or- 
ganism, and  are  acknowledged  to  be  movements  there,  and  are  at  the 
best  the  mere  prompters  of  the  notion  of  space,  and  do  not  contain 
in  themselves  the  notion  of  space  or  any  other  idea  whatsoever. 
Fechner,  in  his  "Psychophysic,"  has  sought  to  determine  the  relation 
of  the  exciting  cause  to  the  sensation,  and  thinks  he  has  proven  that 
the  sensation  is  not  directly  as  the  excitation,  but  the  sensation  in- 
creases as  the  logarithm  of  the  excitation.  Delboeuf  and  Hering 
dispute  the  conformity  of  this  law  to  facts.  It  is  certain,  I  think, 
that  the  law  is  a  physiological  and  not  a  psychological  one,  is  a  law 
of  the  organism  and  not  of  the  conscious  mind.  Wundt  regards  ex- 
ternal impressions  as  mere  signs  to  be  interpreted;  and  maintains 
that  they  are  interpreted  by  unconscious  reasoning,  which  is  the 
primary  element  of  all  thought.  This  view  places  reasoning  prior  to 
the  notion  and  the  judgment,  which  is  contrary  to  the  almost  universal 
opinions  of  philosophers,  and  is  supported  by  no  evidence  except  that 
of  a  hypothesis  of  unconscious  mental  operations  of  which  we  have 
no  proof.  Helmholtz,  who  is  a  physicist  rather  than  a  metaphysician, 
divides  the  theories  as  to  the  origin  of  our  ideas  of  space  into  nativist 
and  empiricist.  He  opposes  the  nativist  theory  in  the  shape  it  takes 
in  the  philosophy  of  Kant,  according  to  whom  space  is  an  a  priori 
form  in  the  mind  imposed  on  objects.  I  do  not  believe  in  any 
Buch  forms.  According  to  the  view  expounded  in  this  chapter  the 
conscious  mind  has  a  native  capacity  of  perceiving  matter  as  pre- 
sented to  it.  All  these  German  theories  may  be  modified  if  not  set 
aside,  if  it  be  true,  as  Ferrier  maintains,  that  each  sense  has  an  organ 
in  the  cerebrum,  and  that  there  is  no  perception  unless  the  organic 
affecliun  reaches  the  brain.  Ferrier  tells  us  that  "  on  destruction  of 
the  angular  gyrus  the  loss  of  vision  is  complete  and  permanent." 
(For  the  German  theories  see  "La  Psychologic  Allemande  Con- 
teniporaine,"  par  Th.  Ribot,  translated  by  J.  M.  Baldwin.) 

The  microscope  has  not  yet  been  invented  which  is  fitted  to  show 
us  the  working  of  perception  or  any  intelligent  act  of  the  mind.  In 
oi'dcr  to  get  iuformatioa  we  have  now  to  employ,  not  the  senses,  but 


SUPPLEMENTARY  NOTES.  69 

ihe  consciousness.  And  there  is  a  difficulty  in  determining  what  i« 
the  first  conscious  act.  We  cannot  look  into  the  soul  of  the  infant 
when  it  is  in  the  womb,  nor  for  a  considerable  time  after.  It  can- 
not express  any  of  its  affections  except  pleasure  or  paiu,  —  say  by  a 
Bmile  or  a  cry,  —  and  we  do  not  remember  our  early  experience.  In 
mature  life  it  is  found  that  the  various  physical  and  psychical  acts 
are  so  mixed  that  it  is  difficult  to  separate  them.  Still,  we  can  bj 
self-consciousness  look  at  our  mental  acts  and  observe  what  they  are, 
We  notice  that  in  all  of  them  there  is  a  perception  of  an  extended 
object  within  the  organism  or  beyond  it.  Consciousness  further  tes- 
tifies that  in  mature  life  we  know  matter  as  resisting  our  energy,  cer- 
tainly by  the  muscular  sense,  probably  by  all  the  senses.  But  neither 
of  these  can  be  had  by  reasoning  or  by  development  from  a  premise 
which  does  not  contain  them.  They  must  therefore  be  given  and 
not  derived,  intuitive  and  not  acquired,  premises  and  not  a  conclu- 
sion. 

Let  physiology  penetrate  as  far  as  it  can  into  the  secrets  of  the 
organism,  say  in  sight,  into  the  structure  of  the  eye,  of  the  optic 
nerve,  and  it  may  be  of  the  angular  gyrus  in  the  brain.  But  let  it 
modestly  stop  when  it  comes  to  something  which  cannot  be  seen  or 
touched,  which  cannot  be  weighed  or  measured.  At  that  point  let 
psychology  take  up  the  investigation  and  inquire  what  is  the  nature 
of  perception,  memory,  reasoning,  and  other  conscious  acts.  Physi- 
ology seems  to  declare  that  all  that  passes  through  the  organism, 
through  the  nerves  and  brain,  are  vibrations.  If  it  be  asked,  as  haa 
•Uready  been  asked  by  Lotze,  How  can  vibrations  produce  percep- 
tions? I  answer  that  the  question  of  how  (the  Sidn  of  Aristotle)  is 
often  difficult  to  answer.  That  there  are  vibrations  is  certain,  that 
there  are  conscious  perceptions  is  also  certain.  To  determine  their 
precise  relation  is  acknowledged  by  all  to  be  a  perplexing  question. 
The  answer  to  it  is  not  made  easier  by  bringing  in  a  tertium  quid  of 
any  kind.  If  this  medium  is  of  the  nature  of  matter,  the  question 
follows,  How  it  can  influence  mind?  If  it  is  of  the  nature  of  the 
mind.  How  can  it  act  on  matter?  If  it  is  of  the  nature  of  neither, 
the  unanswerable  question  is  put,  How  can  it  operate  both  on  mind 
and  matter?  While  we  cannot  answer  such  questions,  we  can  say 
that  the  conscious  mind  perceives  matter  as  extended  and  solid.  We 
may  regard  this  as  a  native  capacity  of  the  cognitive  mind  until  it  it 
resolved  into  something  simpler. 

The  most  satisfactory  position  is  that  the  mind  perceives  matter, 

hat  by  all  the  senses  it  perceives  the  organism,  and  that  by  two  of 


60  SENSE-PERCEPTION. 

the  senses,  sight  and  the  muscular  sense,  it  perceives  objects  affect* 
Ing  the  organism.  Let  us  assume  that  perception  is  one  of  the  ca- 
pacities of  mind,  and  probably  we  are  as  near  the  truth  as  we  can 
possibly  be.  In  the  mature  mind  perception  is  a  property  of  mind, 
just  as  certainly  as  gravity  is  a  property  of  matter  or  assimilation  of 
life.  As  it  cannot  be  derived  from  anything  else,  from  material 
action  or  vital  action,  we  must  regard  it  as  original  and  primary. 
We  may  assume  that  in  it  we  perceive  things  as  they  are.  We  per- 
ceive objects  within  or  beyond  our  frame  as  extended  and  as  affected. 
True,  we  do  not  perceive  the  vibrations,  which  we  know  only  by  the 
aid  of  science,  but  we  perceive  the  affections  produced  by  the  vibra- 
tions. These  affections  are  in  space,  and  the  mind  perceives  them 
as  in  space.  Thus  a  muscular  action,  say  the  movement  of  the  arm, 
is  in  space.  The  affections  of  the  palate,  the  nostrils,  the  ear,  are 
all  perceived  as  in  a  certain  direction  and  extended.  They  are  per- 
ceived as  affections,  as  affected,  as  resisting.  We  thus  get  at  the 
first  perception,  and  in  all  subsequent  perceptions  of  body,  extension 
and  resisting  power,  which  we  may  regard  as  the  primary  and  uni- 
versal properties  of  bodies. 

NOTE  n. 

THE   FOUNDATION   LAID   IN    PHYSICAL    NATUKE    FOR    CONTINUED 
ACTION,    FOR   DEVELOPMENT    AND   YET   FOR   PERMANENCE. 

Every  bodily  substance  contains  a  certain  capacity  of  energy;  this 
is  quite  as  certain  as  that  it  contains  a  certain  amount  of  particles. 
This  constitutes  the  basis  of  the  conservation  of  energy,  a  doctrine 
which  follows  from  the  nature  of  body  when  properly  apprehended. 
This  energy  is  shown  in  one  body  acting  on  another  by  its  proper- 
ties. The  force  operates  when  the  conditions  implied  in  its  nature 
are  supplied.  A  stone  must  fall  to  the  ground  if  unsupported.  Hence 
the  perpetual  changes  in  nature  so  fondly  dwelt  on  by  Heraclitus  and 
the  ^iK6ao(poi  Peovres. 

The  forces  in  the  agents  which  act  as  the  causes  are  not  lost.  In 
all  physical  causation  there  are  two  or  more  agents  in  the  cause. 
\n  the  action  there  is  a  change  in  each  of  the  agents;  for  example, 
both  in  the  oxygen  and  hydrogen  which  combine  to  form  water;  but 
ihe  substances,  the  oxygen  and  hydrogen,  abide  with  their  capacities. 
This  is  the  rh  6y  of  the  Eleatics,  which  never  changes.  There  is  thus 
»n  the  one  hand,  a  "  persistence  of  force,"  as  Herbert  Spencer  calls  it, 
and  at  the  same  time  a  succession  of  actions.     This  continaance  witk 


ON   THE  EDUCATION  OF   THE   SENSES.  61 

mutation  is  evidently  under  a  Divine  order  which  takes  the  form  of 
law.  There  is  a  sense  in  which  all  action  is  development,  or  evolu- 
tion :  the  force  comes  out  of  the  original  energy  in  bodies.  By  their 
mutually  adapted  action,  the  forces  often  run  in  lines  or  races 
which  are  so  arranged  as  to  be  periodical,  they  return  according  to 
.  their  circuits,  as  for  example,  the  seasons  do,  spring,  summer,  au- 
tumn, and  winter,  and  the  plant  is  after  its  kind. 

SECTION   XV. 

ON  THE  EDUCATION  OF  THE  SENSES. 

The  senses  are  all  capable  of  being  educated.  Our 
tastes  may  be  made  more  delicate,  and  may  keep  us  from 
using  deleterious  food.  The  sense  of  smell  may  be  culti- 
vated, and  add  to  our  enjoyments  ;  and  odors,  especially 
by  means  of  flowers,  may  be  provided  to  gratify  it.  Hear- 
ing may  be  improved  and  made  more  sensitive  and  accu- 
^  rate.  Music  is  a  source  of  pleasure,  which  may  be  en- 
}  hanced  till  it  becomes  elysian.  Feeling  may  be  made 
very  delicate  in  its  perceptions,  and  capable  of  distin- 
guishing very  nice  differences  of  object.  The  senses  of 
pressure  and  of  weight  may  be  so  trained  as  to  give  ua 
very  accurate  measurements.  But  the  eye  is  the  most 
intellectual  of  all  our  sense-organs,  enabling  us  at  a  glance 
to  take  in  the  vast  and  the  minute,  the  near  and  the  dis- 
tant. 

All  these  should  be  cultivated  by  training  in  the  fam- 
ily and  at  school.  Children  should  be  taught  from  their 
earliest  years  to  use  their  senses  intelligently  and  habit- 
ually. They  should  be  encouraged  to  observe  care- 
fully the  objects  around  them,  and  taught  to  describe 
and  report  them  correctly.  It  has  been  said  that  there 
are  more  false  facts  than  false  theories,  and  this  arises 
from  pei'sons  not  being  trained  to  notice  facts  accurately, 
neither  adding  to  them  nor  taking  from  them,  nor  gilding 
them  by  the  fancy,  nor  detracting  from  them  to  serve  an 


62  SENSE-PERCEPTION. 

and.  Pictures  and  models  are  used  very  extensivel3'  in 
modern  education,  and  serve  a  good  purpose,  as  they  call 
in  the  senses  to  minister  to  the  intellect.  But  the  things 
themselves  are  vastly  more  instructive  than  any  represen- 
tations can  be.  So  children  should  be  taught  to  use 
their  senses,  especially  their  ears  and  their  eyes,  in  ob- 
serving the  objects  around  them,  and  the  events  that 
occur,  and  storing  them  up  for  future  reflection.  Plants 
and  animals  and  stars,  men  and  women  and  children,  fall 
under  our  eyes  at  all  times,  and  their  nature,  shapes,  and 
actings  should  be  diligently  scanned  for  practical  use  and 
for  scientific  attainment.  Not,  indeed,  that  every  fact 
can  be  noted  ;  for  this  would  lay  a  burden  on  the  mind 
which  it  cannot  bear.  Pains  should  be  taken  not  to  dis- 
tract the  mind  by  too  great  an  accumulation  of  details, 
BO  as  to  prevent  the  rise  and  action  of  the  reflective  fac- 
ulties. But  the  habit  of  careful  observation  should  be 
acquired  in  early  life,  and  facts  stored  up  in  all  depart- 
ments which  we  mean  to  study  or  to  use  in  our  future 
lives. 

SECTION   XVI. 

KNOWLEDGE   GIVEN   BY   THE   SENSES. 

Having  looked  at  the  senses  individually,  let  us  now 
weigh  the  results  they  yield  when  they  are  combined  in 
their  action. 

The  Knoivledge  of  Our  Bodily  Frame.  —  This  acts,  I 
believe,  as  the  starting-point  of  all  our  knowledge  of 
extra-organic  objects,  and  furnishes  a  standard  and  a. 
measure.  Let  us  try  to  ascertain,  in  a  general  way,  what 
this  combined  organic  knowledge  amounts  to.  By  each 
of  the  senses  we  have  a  knowledge  of  parts  of  our  frame 
as  affected.  Already,  then,  we  have  a  knowledge  con- 
Crete  of  things  as  in  space.     The  part  affected  odorouslv 


KNOWLEDGE   GIVEN  BY   THE  SENSES.  63 

18  in  one  direction ;  the  part  affected  by  bearing  in  an- 
other direction  ;  that  affected  by  color  in  a  third  ;  and  so 
with  the  other  senses ;  each  sense  locahzes  an  organ,  pal- 
ate, nostrils,  ear,  eye,  while  touch  proper  gives  a  knowl- 
edge of  the  direction  and  locality  of  affections  in  every 
part  of  the  body,  and  the  muscular  sense  makes  known 
the  spot  at  which  the  energy  is  exerted.  By  combining 
this  knowledge,  we  come  to  have  a  considerable  and  a 
familiar  acquaintance  with  our  bodily  frame,  with  the 
parts,  and  affections  thereof.  It  is,  after  all,  however, 
very  loose  and  imperfect,  till  we  are  able  to  perceive  the 
body,  as  it  were,  ab  extra,  till  we  touch  and  handle  it, 
and  see  the  outside  form  of  it.  We  know  the  shape  of 
our  bodies  all  the  more  distinctly  from  observing  the  fig- 
ures of  men  and  women  around  us.  The  peasant  girl 
gains  a  large  amount  of  interesting  information  when  she 
sees  her  face  and  figure  reflected  in  the  water,  or  more 
perfectly  in  the  mirror.  When  affected  with  the  tooth- 
ache, we  know  the  general  direction  of  the  pain,  but  may 
not  be  able  to  tell  in  what  tooth  it  is,  as  the  same  is 
known  by  the  tongue  or  hand  ;  it  is  certain  that  we  can- 
not in  this  way  know  the  form  of  the  tooth.  But,  when 
we  have  toothache,  we  try  to  find  out,  by  touch  or  sight, 
the  tooth  in  which  the  pain  is.  This  may  illustrate  the 
way  in  which  we  combine  the  intimations  given  by  the 
different  senses.  As  the  result  of  all  the  steps,  intui- 
tive, experiential,  and  inferential,  we  carry  with  us  al- 
ways, and  wherever  we  go,  a  sense  of  our  circumambient 
body  and  of  its  several  parts,  of  its  capable  acts  and  sus- 
ceptible affections,  and  round  this,  as  a  nucleus,  we  gather 
information,  and  all  our  knowledge  of  objects  beyond  our 
^rame  is  referred  to  this  as  the  centre  of  our  world. 

Our   Combined  Extra-organic  Knowledge.  —  At  the 
Vttry  same  time  that  we  know  our  bodily  frame  we  have 


S4  SENSE-PERCEPTION. 

a  certain  amount  of  knowledge  of  objects  beyond  it ;  we 
seem  to  take  in  a  colored  surface  by  the  eye,  and  by  the 
muscular  sense  we  know  objects  as  resisting  our  energy. 
Upon  this  foundation  laid  by  nature  we  may  rear  an  im- 
mense superstructure.  Acquainted  with  the  structure  of 
the  sensory  organs,  the  boy  is  able  to  fix  the  direction 
of  objects  affecting  them,  of  objects  seen  and  touched ;  of 
that  face  which  he  sees,  of  that  yoice  which  he  hears,  of 
that  arm  that  holds  him,  and  he  is  soon  able  to  trace  them 
all  to  one  person,  his  nurse  or  his  mother.  Thus  do  we  fix 
the  qualities  discerned  by  different  senses  in  one  object. 
We  smell  an  apple,  we  see  its  color  and  outline,  we  take 
it  into  our  hands  and  feel  its  shape,  we  press  it  and  as- 
certain its  hardness,  and  we  hear  the  sound  the  crushing 
makes.  Henceforth  the  very  smell  or  sight  brings  these 
qualities,  or  a  number  of  them,  before  us,  is  associated 
with  these  qualities,  and  is  conceived  by  us  as  possess- 
ing them.  We  expect  everything  that  smells  so,  even 
when  we  do  not  see  or  touch  it,  to  have  a  certain  shape 
and  consistency,  and  a  certain  taste  in  the  mouth.  We 
thus  come  to  be  surrounded  by  objects,  with  qualities  at- 
tached to  them,  in  our  apprehension.  We  distribute  ob- 
jects in  the  room,  doors,  tables,  chairs,  desks,  books,  pic- 
tures. We  know  the  place,  and,  so  far,  the  properties  of 
every  object  under  our  view  in  nature,  of  the  trees,  the 
fields,  the  meadows,  the  rivers,  the  clouds,  the  sun,  moon, 
and  stars.  We  learn  by  degrees  the  purposes  served  by 
the  things  before  us.  That  object  is  a  chair,  with  a  piece 
of  dress  lying  on  it ;  that  other  is  a  table,  with  food  on 
it ;  that  other  a  horse,  on  which  we  may  ride.  As  oui 
observation  and  experience  widen,  our  world  enlarges i 
the  known  things  in  it  become  more  numerous,  and  we 
know  them  more  fully  and  accurately.  In  particular,  we 
become  acquainted  with   innumerable    beings  with  lik? 


QUALITIES   OF  MATTER.  65 

thoughts  and  sentiments  as  ourselves.  We  have  at  last 
not  just  a  universe,  but  a  cosmos  with  earth  and  air, 
plant  and  animal,  with  sun,  moon,  and  stars,  some  of 
them  at  incalculable  distances,  and  with  innumerable 
living  beings  possessed  of  immortality.  It  should  be  no- 
ticed that  all  this  knowledge  radiates  from  our  sensitive 
and  conscious  self.  We  place  all  these  objects  around  us, 
in  a  certain  direction  from  ourselves,  and  we  compi-ehend 
them  from  the  way  in  which  they  would  affect  us. 

SECTION  XVII. 

QUALITIES    OF   MATTER:   EXTENSION   AND   ENERGY. 

Primary  Qualities.  —  In  all  our  sense-perceptions,  even 
those  simply  of  our  bodies,  there  are  qualities  known. 
Some  of  these  are  called  Primary.  They  are  found  in 
body,  as  Locke  expresses  it,  in  whatever  state  it  be. 
They  are  so  called  also,  because,  as  Reid  says,  our  senses 
give  us  a  direct  knowledge  of  them.  I  doubt  much 
whether  we  are  able  to  determine  with  clearness  and  cer- 
tainty what  these  are.  Physical  science  will  not  pretend 
to  fix  on  them  absolutely.  Metaphysics  has  no  right  to 
settle  such  a  question.  But  it  may  be  safely  said  that 
there  are  two  such  qualities  :  one  of  these  is  Extension 
and  the  other  is  Energy. 

Extension  is  certainly  an  essential  quality.  Every 
form  of  matter  possesses  it.  The  intelligent  mind  directly 
perceives  body  as  extended.  By  an  easy  process  of  ab- 
straction we  can  separate  the  extension  from  the  body  as 
possessing  other  qualities  and  have  the  idea  of  extension 
or  space.  Hamilton  evolves  it  from  two  catholic  condi- 
tions of  matter :  "  The  occupying  of  space  and  being 
contained  in  space.  Of  these  the  former  affords  (A) 
trinal  extension  explicated  again  into  (1)  divisibility  ; 
(2)  size  containing  under  it  density  of  gravity ;  (3)  fig- 


36  SENSE-PERCEPTION. 

are  ;  and  (B)  ultimate  imcompressibility ;  while  the  latter 
gives  (A)  mobility,  and  (B)  situation." 

Energy  under  certain  forms  is  also  an  essential  qual- 
ity. Matter  is  known  as  affecting  us  and  as  resisting  our 
action.  True,  it  is  only  by  a  gathered  experience  that  we 
know  what  forms  physical  energy  takes,  and  find  the 
nature,  extent,  and  limits  of  the  action,  as,  for  instauce, 
of  gravitation  and  chemical  affinity.  But  we  seem  in 
all  our  cognitions  of  body  to  know  it  as  acting  on  us 
even  as  we  know  ourselves  as  acting  on  it.  There  is  no 
form  or  state  of  body,  solid,  liquid,  or  gaseous,  which 
does  not  possess  this  power  which  is  exercised  in  our  per- 
ception of  it.  It  should  always  be  acknowledged  that 
matter  may  possess  other  essential  attributes,  as  these 
may  be  known  to  other  intelligences  who  penetrate  into 
the  nature  of  things.  But  these  seem  to  be  the  only 
essential  qualities  known  to  us. 

Organic  Affections,  called  not  very  happily  the  Sec- 
ondary Qualities  of  Matter.  In  regard  to  what  second- 
ary qualities  are,  such  as  smells,  tastes,  sounds,  colors, 
there  has  been  much  controversy  gendered  of  confusion, 
and  many  wrong  inferences  have  been  drawn.  It  is 
asked  whether  there  is  color  in  the  rose,  sound  in  the 
drum,  odor  in  the  violet,  taste  in  the  mutton.  If  we 
answer  that  there  is,  then  it  is  shown  conclusively  that 
colors  consist  of  vibrations,  as  do  also  sounds,  and  that 
tastes  and  smells  are  mere  liquids  and  vapors  affecting 
our  palate  and  nostrils.  But  when  we  are  driven  to 
allow  that  there  is  no  reality  in  these  secondary  qual- 
ities, it  is  argued  that  there  may  just  be  as  little  m  the 
primary  qualities,  such  as  extension  and  resistance,  which 
may  be  mere  sensations  of  the  organism  or  creations  of 
jhe  mind.  The  logicval  conclusion  is  idealism  such  aa 
that  of  Berkeley. 


QUALITIES   OF  MATTER.  67 

The  secondary  qualities  have  an  existence  simply  in 
our  animated  and  sentient  frame.  Their  office  is  to  make 
known  the  state  of  our  bodies.  They  do  not  reveal  di- 
rectly the  properties  of  bodies  beyond  our  organism  ;  but 
they  prompt  us  to  inquire  into  the  cause  of  the  affections 
when  we  find  them  to  consist  of  the  mechanical  or  chem- 
ical properties  of  objects.  It  is  thus  that  the  sensation 
of  heat  or  cold  leads  us  to  inquire  into  the  state  of  the 
temperature,  and  that  certain  odors  may  send  us  out  in 
search  of  malaria. 

There  is  an  ambiguity  in  the  phrases,  sounds,  tastes, 
colors,  heat,  and  the  like.  They  may  mean  simply  affec- 
tions of  the  sense,  nerves,  or  the  bodilj''  qualities  which 
produce  the  affection.  Thus  "  heat "  may  mean  the 
frame  under  a  certain  sensation  or  a  mode  of  motion.  It 
is  of  importance  that  when  we  are  using  these  phrases 
we  understand  and  explain  what  we  mean  by  them. 
When  we  speak  of  feeling  heat  we  do  not  mean  a  mode 
of  motion,  which  is  in  fact  the  cause  of  our  feeling. 

It  will  be  found  that  in  all  our  organic  affections  (as 
indeed  in  all  physical  action)  there  is  a  dual  or  plural 
cause  ;  there  is  an  organic  susceptibility  and  an  extra- 
organic  agent ;  there  are  tastes,  smells,  and  colors,  but 
these  are  called  into  action  by  sapid  bodies,  by  odors,  or 
vibrations.  These  two,  the  organic  and  extra-organic, 
are  so  mixed  in  our  apprehensions  that  we  are  apt  to 
identify  them.  That  smell  we  know  is  produced  by  a 
rose,  and  we  regard  the  smell  as  in  the  rose.  We  can 
thus  so  far  understand  that  peculiar  combined  sensation 
and  perception  as  to  color  which  has  so  puzzled  meta- 
physicians. By  the  eye  we  perceive  a  surface,  but  there 
is  always  associated  with  it  a  retinal  color  in  the  rods 
and  cones.  It  is  only  by  a  process  of  abstraction  that 
we  can  think  of  (we  cannot  image)  the  color  apart  from 
the  shape. 


58  SENSE-PERCEPTION. 

For  philosophic  purposes  the  all-important  distinction 
is  between  the  qualities  perceived  immediately  in  all 
bodies — these  are  the  primary  qualities;  and  the  organic 
affections  implying  by  inference  an  extra-organic  cause  — 
these  are  called  the  secondary  qualities.  It  is  to  be  dis- 
tinctly understood  that  there  is  a  reality  in  both.  The 
reality  in  the  secondary  qualities  is  merely  in  the  af- 
fected organism,  and  we  are  justified  in  maintaining  that 
there  is  such  a  thing.  The  reality  in  the  other  is  in 
body,  and  we  hold  that  this  really  exists. 

SECTION  XVIII. 

IDEAS   GIVEN  BT  THE   SENSES:   EXTERNALITY,   SPACE,   AND 
ENERGY. 

We  shall  discover  as  we  advance  that  every  one  of  the 
original  mental  powers  gives  us  a  special  cognition  or 
idea.  We  may  notice  here  that  Sense-Perception  gives 
us  I.  Externality.  We  perceive  all  material  objects 
as  out  of,  and  independent  of,  the  perceiving  mind.  This 
is  associated  with  II.  Extension.  We  perceive  things  as 
extended  by  all  the  senses,  not  only  as  Locke  thought 
by  sight  and  touch,  but  by  smell,  taste,  and  hearing; 
by  all  these  we  know  our  affected  organism  as  in  a  cer- 
tain direction  and  so  in  space  ;  by  taste  and  smell  we 
know  the  palate  and  nostrils  as  affected,  and  by  hearing, 
our  ear  as  affected.  III.  We  perceive  body  exercising 
Energy.  We  do  so  especially  by  the  muscular  sense; 
we  find  body  resisting  our  locomotive  energy.  Perhaps 
we  have  some  vague  sense  of  energy  by  all  the  senses : 
the  objects  perceived  seem  to  affect  us.  But  the  sense 
of  power  is  specially  given  by  our  energy  and  the  resist- 
ance to  our  energy.  And  then  we  soon  learn  by  experi- 
ence that  our  organic  sensations  are  produced  by  extra- 
organic  causes,  that  our  sensations  of  light  and  heat  ar« 


IDEAS  GIVEN   BY   THE   SENSES.  69 

produced  by  vibrations.  We  are  tbus  made  to  feel  tbat 
every  body  is  possessed  of  power  in  exercise  or  ready 
to  be  exercised. 

These  three  primitive  cognitions  are  the  root  of  all  our 
ideas  regarding  matter.  As  Kant  would  say,  but  in  a 
different  connection,  "  They  render  experience  possible." 
It  is  of  importance  thus  to  note  and  to  specify  what  is 
the  precise  knowledge  given  by  the  senses  that  we  may 
see  clearly  and  ever  keep  it  before  us,  that  they  do  not 
and  cannot  yield  us  all  our  ideas ;  and  that  there  are 
other  and  higher  ideas  as  of  self,  of  thinking,  and  moral 
good  which  must  come  from  higher  sources. 


CHAPTER  II. 

SELF-CONSCIOUSNESS. 

By  this  power  we  know  self  in  its  present  state  aa 
acting  and  being  acted  on. 

SECTION  I. 

IT   MAKES   KNOWN  SELF   AS   WELL   AS   THE   ACTS   OF   SELF. 

At  the  same  time  that  we  perceive  by  the  senses  we 
are  conscious  of  ourselves  as  perceiving.  These  two 
exercises  are,  in  many  respects,  like  each  other.  In  both 
we  perceive  an  object.  By  the  senses  we  perceive  an 
object  external  and  extended,  this  table  or  tliat  chair. 
But  in  consciousness  we  also  perceive  an  object:  we 
perceive  self  in  a  certain  state,  as  thinking  or  as  feeling, 
as  in  joy  or  in  grief.  By  the  one  we  know  the  various 
properties  of  matter  as  they  come  under  our  notice ;  by 
the  other  we  know  the  various  states  of  self. 

It  is  of  importance  to  notice  that  in  self-consciousness 
we  come  to  have  a  knowledge  of  self  in  a  particular 
state.  According  to  D.  Stewart  and  the  Scottish  school, 
we  know  only  the  qualities  of  things,  and  not  the  things 
themselves.  The  correct  statement  is  that  we  know  the 
thing  as  exercising  a  quality.  According  to  Kant  and 
his  school,  we  know  simply  phenomena  —  that  is,  ap- 
pearances, and  not  things.  But  there  never  can  be  an 
appearance  without  a  thing  appearing.  In  self-con- 
sciousness we  know  the  thing,  the  ver^'  thing,  as  appear- 
ing or  as  presenting  itself  to  us.  We  have  as  clear  and 
sertain  proof  of  our  knowing  the  object  —  that  is,  the 


MAKES  KNOWN  SELF.  71 

thinking  self  —  as  we  have  that  there  is  before  us  an 
appearance. 

Consciousness  accompanies  all  Mental  Exer- 
cises.—  In  this  respect  consciousness  differs  in  its  mode 
of  exercise  from  the  other  powers  of  the  mind.  I  am 
not  every  instant  remembering,  or  judging,  or  willing, 
bat  at  every  waking  moment  of  my  existence  I  am  con- 
scious. When  I  perceive  a  material  object,  when  I 
recollect  an  occurrence,  when  I  draw  an  inference,  when 
I  am  sorrowing  or  rejoicing,  when  I  am  wishing  or 
willing,  I  am  conscious  that  I  do  so.  In  short,  conscious- 
ness seems  inseparable  from  the  exercise  of  all  our  facul- 
ties and  to  accompany  every  operation  of  the  mind. 

It  was  an  opinion  entertained  by  Leibnitz,  and  has 
been  held  by  many  since  his  time,  that  we  are  uncon- 
Bcious  of  many  of  our  mental  operations.  They  point  to 
acts  of  mind  which  have  left  effects  behind  them,  but  of 
which  we  have  not  the  dimmest  recollection.  We  are 
sure  that  we  must  have  issued  a  great  many  volitions  in 
passing  from  one  place  to  another,  but  after  they  are 
over  we  cannot  recollect  one  of  them.  The  question 
arises.  How  are  we  to  account  for  such  a  phenomenon  ? 
I  believe  it  can  all  be  explained  by  the  ordinary  laws  of 
mind,  without  our  calling  in  such  an  anomalous  principle 
as  unconscious  mental  action.  I  hold  that  we  were  con- 
scious of  the  acts  at  the  time,  but  that  they  were  not 
retained,  as  there  was  nothing  to  fix  them  in  the 
memory. 

The  exercise  of  the  mind  when  thus  engaged  is  not 
unlike  that  of  a  man  in  a  boat,  looking  over  its  edge  into 
the  lake  below,  thus  described  by  Wordsworth:  — 

"  Aa  one  who  hangs  down,  bending  from  the  side 
Of  a  slow-moving  boat  upon  the  breast 
Of  a  still  water,  solacing  himself 
With  such  discpreries  as  bis  ejea  can  make 


T2  SELF-CONSCIOUSNESS. 

Beneath  him  in  the  bottom  of  the  deep, 

Sees  many  beauteous  sights,  — weeds,  fishes,  flowers, 

Grots,  pebbles,  roots  of  trees,  —  and  fancies  more  ; 

Yet  often  is  perplexed,  and  cannot  part 

The  shadow  from  the  substance  —  rocks  and  sky. 

Mountains  and  clouds,  reflected  in  the  depth 

Of  the  clear  flood  —  from  things  which  there  abide 

In  their  own  dwelling;  now  is  crossed  by  gleam 

Of  his  own  image,  by  a  sunbeam  now, 

And  waving  motion  sent,  he  knows  not  whence, 

Impediments  tliat  make  bia  task  more  sweet." 

Every  -word  of  this  description  might  analogically  be 
applied  to  the  reflex  process  of  the  human  mind,  as  it 
observes  its  own  thoughts  and  reasonings,  its  sentiments 
and  emotions.  At  times  there  is  a  dimness  in  the  view 
which  we  obtain  of  them,  at  times  our  vision  is  crossed 
by  a  gleam  of  our  own  image  —  that  is,  our  observation 
of  the  act  so  far  disturbs  the  act ;  the  party  observing  is 
discomposed  by  the  knowledge  of  an  eye  fixed  upon  him ; 
or,  to  vary  our  image,  the  thought,  when  inspected,  is  so 
far  modified  by  the  inspection,  as  the  very  thought  that 
a  man  is  sitting  for  his  portrait  will  so  far  affect  the 
expression  of  his  countenance.  Still,  as  we  thus  inspect 
this  deep,  we  shall  see  far  more  beauteous  sights  than 
weeds,  fishes,  flowers,  grots,  pebbles,  roots  of  trees ;  we 
shall  see  the  workings  of  those  thoughts  which  give  to 
man  all  his  greatness,  of  those  sentiments  which  give  to 
man  all  his  excellence. 

Consciousness  and  Personal  Identity.  —  Con- 
sci'^usness  cannot  be  said  to  furnish  our  idea  of,  or  belief 
in,  our  personal  identity,  for  consciousness  looks  solely  to 
the  present,  whereas  in  personal  identity  there  is  a  com- 
parison between  the  past  and  the  present.  But  con- 
sciousness I'eveals  self  as  present.  When  we  remember 
the  past,  there  is  involved  a  memory  of  self  as  remem- 
bering.    We  are  thus  in  a  position  to  compare  the  two 


PERSONAL   IDENTITY.  73 

—  the  present  self  known,  and  the  past  self  remembered, 

—  and  we  declare  the  self  to  be  identical.  Consciousness 
thus  supplies  the  two  main  facts  on  which  our  judgment 
as  to  personal  identity  is  pronounced.  The  self  at 
present  may  be  depressed  and  sad,  the  self  remembered 
may  have  been  buoyant  and  joyous,  but  we  declare  the 
two  to  be  the  same,  and  cannot  be  made  to  pronounce 
any  other  judgment. 

It  is  not  consciousness,  as  it  has  been  sometimes  as- 
serted, that  constitutes  our  personal  identity.  Con- 
sciousness merely  makes  it  known,  or  rather  makes 
known  the  facts  on  which  our  judgment  rests.  We  are 
persons,  and  we  have  an  identity  of  person  whether  we 
notice  it  or  no.  We  are  persons,  and  have  an  identity  of 
person  not  because  we  are  conscious  of  it,  but  we  observe 
it  because  it  exists. 

Bishop  Berkeley  drove  the  doctrine  that  in  sense-per- 
ception the  mind  does  not  perceive  the  external  object, 
but  an  idea  in  the  mind,  to  its  legitimate  consequences. 
He  argued  that  if  we  do  not  perceive  an  extended  world 
we  have  no  reason  to  believe  that  there  is  any  such 
thing.  There  has  been  a  like  error  held  in  regard  to 
consciousness,  by  which  it  is  said  we  know  merely  phe- 
nomena in  the  sense  of  appearances  (so  Kant  held), 
merely  appearing  thoughts  and  appearing  feelings. 
Fichte  did  for  this  theory  of  Kant  what  Berkeley 
did  for  the  theory  of  Locke.  He  followed  it  to  con- 
lusions  from  whicb  the  founder  of  the  German  school 
shrank.  "  The  sum  total  is  this :  there  is  absolutely 
nothing  permanent  either  without  me  or  within  me, 
but  only  an  unceasing  change.  I  know  absolutely  noth- 
ing of  any  existence,  not  even  mine  own.  I  myself 
know  nothing,  and  am  nothing.  Images  there  are ; 
they  constitute  all    that   apparently    exists,   and    what 


74  SELF-CONSCIOUSNESS. 

they  know  of  themselves  is  after  the  manner  of  images 
—  images  that  pass  and  vanish  without  there  being 
aught  to  witness  their  transition  ;  that  consist,  in  fact,  of 
the  image  of  images  without  significance  and  without  an 
aim.  I  myself  am  one  of  these  images.  All  reality  is 
converted  into  a  marvellous  dream  without  a  life  to 
dream  of  and  without  a  mind  to  dream,  into  a  dream 
made  up  only  of  a  dream  of  itself.  Perception  is  a 
dream  ;  thought,  the  source  of  all  the  existence  and  of 
all  the  reality  which  I  imagine  to  myself,  of  my  power, 
my  destination,  is  the  dream  of  that  dream."  I  meet 
the  ideal  skepticism,  or  rather  agnosticism,  so  far  as  ifc 
relates  to  the  external  world,  by  maintaining  that,  by 
the  senses,  not  only  do  we  perceive  phenomena,  we  per- 
ceive appearances ;  we  perceive  things  appearing,  not 
merely  qualities,  but  qualities  of  self,  of  self  in  such  or 
such  a  state.  The  conclusion  to  which  we  have  come  is 
that  as  by  sense-perception  we  have  a  positive,  though  of 
course  limited,  knowledge  of  material  objects,  so  by  self- 
jonsciousness  we  have  a  like  knowledge  of  self  in  its 
present  action. 

SECTION  n. 

SENSK-PERCEPXrON  AND  SELF-CONSCIOUSNESS   COMBINED. 

We  have  been  looking  at  these  two  faculties  separately. 
Let  us  now  look  at  them  together.  By  the  former  we 
obtain  a  knowledge  first  of  our  own  bodily  frame.  This 
we  do  by  all  the  senses.  We  know  our  body  as  out  of 
the  thinking  mind,  and  the  organs  as  out  of  one  another, 
and  in  a  certain  direction  in  reference  to  one  another. 
We  also  know  certain  affections  which  we  call  tastes, 
adors,  sounds,  and  colors.  We  know  all  matter  as  ex- 
tended and  as  offering  resistance  first  to  our  body,  an</ 


PERCEPTION  AND  CONSCIOUSNESS.  76 

then  to  other  bodies.  But  at  the  same  time  that  we  are 
thus  perceiving,  or  indeed  exercising  any  other  power, 
we  know  self,  and  this  successively  in  its  various  moods 
or  modes.  It  is  the  business  of  psychology  to  unfold 
these.  These  two  do  not  constitute  all  our  faculties,  or 
even  our  highest  or  chief  faculties,  but  they  are  the  first 
exercised  of  all  our  powers,  and  furnish  materials  to  all 
the  others,  which  are  therefore  dependent  on  them. 

Sense-Perception  and  Self-Consciousness  give 
us  Knowledge.  —  This  proposition  is  laid  down  in 
opposition  to  the  very  common  statement  that  the  mind 
begins  with  impressions,  or  ideas,  or  presentations,  or 
phenomena.  The  mind  commences  its  intelligent  act 
with  the  knowledge  of  things :  by  the  senses  of  body,  our 
own  frame  or  things  beyond  ;  by  the  inner  sense,  of  the 
conscious  mind  in  its  piesent  state  and  exercise.  These 
powers  may,  on  this  account,  be  called  the  simple  cog- 
nitive, because  they  give  knowledge  in  its  simplest 
form. 

Some  would  not  allow  that  what  is  given  us  by  these 
powers  is  knowledge.  And  no  doubt  it  is  not  scientific 
or  systematized  knowledge.  But  still  it  is  knowledge 
—  a  knowledge  of  existing  things — not  eVio-T^/iTj,  but 
ri/wo-is ;  not  Wissenschaft,  but  Kennen.  The  arranged 
knowledge  requires  a  previous  knowledge,  which  it  ar- 
ranges. The  systems  or  theories  of  philosophy  which  do 
not  begin  with  knowledge  can  never  get  it  by  any  sub- 
sequent or  subsidiary  process,  and  so  are  landed,  whether 
their  defenders  allow  it  or  no,  whether  they  wish  it  or 
no,  in  Nescience,  which  declares  that  man  can  know 
nothing  ;  or  in  Nihilism,  which  affirms  that  there  is 
nothing  to  be  known  ;  or  in  what  is  now  called  Agnos- 
ticism. 

This   PuiivnTivE  Knowledge    is    Singulak.  —  It 


r6  SELF-CONSCIOUSNESS. 

may  consist  of  what  is  afterwards  discovered  to  be  a 
number  of  objects,  but  it  is  regarded  at  the  time  as  one 
thing.  The  eye  may  have  before  it  a  widespread  scene, 
with  divers  objects  of  different  colors  and  shapes,  and 
some  of  them  farther  removed  than  others,  but  it  con- 
templates them  as  one  surface.  It  is  by  a  subsequent 
process  and  by  higher  faculties  than  the  senses  that  we 
distinguish  one  part  of  the  scene  from  another,  this  tree 
from  this  hill,  the  animal  from  the  ground  on  which  it 
walks.  The  same  may  be  said  of  our  knowledge  by  self- 
consciousness.  We  are  not  conscious  of  a  thought  as  dis- 
tinguished from  a  sensation  ;  we  are  conscious  simply  of 
mind  as  thinking  or  as  sentient,  as  one  or  other,  or  both, 
without  designating  them  or  distinguishing  them.  This 
knowledge  is  said  to  be  "singular,"  as  opposed  to 
"universal."  It  is  of  one  object  as  it  presents  itself, 
without  or  within  us  ;  this  wall,  or  this  feeling.  It  is 
by  a  subsequent  and  a  discursive  process  that  out  of  the 
singular  we  form  the  general.  But  the  formation  of  the 
universal  always  implies  individual  things,  out  of  wbich 
it  is  fashioned. 

This  Pkimitive  Knowledge  is  Concrete  —  that 
is,  it  consists  of  objects  as  they  present  themselves,  of 
objects  with  their  qualities,  not  of  objects  apart  from 
qualities,  or  of  qualities  apart  from  objects,  but  of  objects 
as  exercising  qualities.  We  may,  by  a  subsequent  process, 
separate  the  things  thus  known,  the  substance  from  the 
quality,  or  the  quality  from  the  substance,  or  one  quality 
from  another.  Having  seen  a  house,  we  can  think  of  its 
walls,  or  its  windows,  or  its  door,  or  its  roof.  But  this  is 
by  a  process  of  abstraction,  and  not  by  mere  sense-per- 
ception. But  in  order  to  an  abstract  notion,  there  must 
be  a  concrete  apprehension.  All  the  apprehensions  givea 
6y  the  senses  and  self-consciousness  are  concrete  —  that 


KNOWLEDGE   SINGULAR  AND   CONCRETE.  77 

18,  of  things  grown  together  (from  eoneresco^,  or  of 
things  seen  together  (from  concerno'). 

The  principles  laid  down  in  this  and  the  preceding 
sections  undermine  that  transcendental  philosophy  which 
supposes  that  the  mind  starts  with  such  general  or  ab- 
stract ideas  as  space  and  time,  infinity  and  eternity, 
supposed  to  be  innate,  on  which  ideas  it  would  raise  a 
huge  but  unstable  system  of  speculative  philosophy.  It 
can  be  shown  that  all  these  ideas  appear  first  in  a  singu- 
lar and  concrete  form.  It  is  sufficient,  in  the  mean  time, 
to  remark  that  in  sense-perception  we  have  not  space  in 
the  abstract,  but  body  contained  in  space  and  occupying 
space. 

Sense-Perception  and  Self-Consciousness  make 
KNOWN  Things  as  having  Being.  —  In  evei-y  exercise 
of  the  senses,  we  know  things,  this  organ  of  our  body, 
or  this  ball  in  contact  with  it,  as  existing.  It  is  the 
same  in  every  operation  of  self-consciousness ;  we  know 
self  as  planning,  or  purposing,  or  in  some  other  exercise. 
Seldom,  indeed,  do  we  take  the  trouble  of  affirming  that 
we  ourselves  exist,  or  that  the  objects  before  us  exist. 
We  assume  it  as  a  thing  which  we  know,  and  which  will 
be  granted  us.  We  are  inclined  to  affirm  only  what  may 
be  denied,  and  this  will  not  be  denied,  and  it  is  superflu- 
ous, and  might  seem  affected  in  us,  to  make  any  formal 
statement  on  the  subject.  It  is  imjolied  in  the  exercise 
of  our  two  primary  capacities  that  the  things  they  look 
at  have  Being. 

"  But  what  can  be  said  of  Being?  Verily,  little  can 
be  said  of  it.  The  mistake  of  metaphysicians  lies  in  say- 
ing too  much.  They  have  made  assertions  which  have, 
and  can  have,  no  meaning,  and  landed  themselves  in 
self-created  mysteries  or  in  contradictions.  So  little  can 
t)e  affirmed  of  Being,  not  because  of  the  complexity  of 


78  SELF-CONSCIOUSNESS. 

the  idea,  but  because  of  its  simplicity  ;  we  can  find  noth- 
ing simpler  into  which  to  resolve  it.  We  have  come  to 
ultimate  truth,  and  there  is  really  no  deeper  foundation 
on  which  to  rest  it.  There  is  no  light  behind  in  which 
to  show  it  in  vivid  outline. 

"  In  the  concrete  every  one  has  the  cognition  of  Being, 
just  as  every  man  has  a  skeleton  in  his  frame.  But  the 
common  mind  is  apt  to  turn  away  from  the  abstract  idea, 
as  it  does  from  an  anatomical  preparation ;  or  rather,  it 
feels  as  if  such  attenuated  notions  belong  to  the  regions 
of  ghosts,  where 

"  '  Entity  and  quiddity, 
The  ghosts  of  defunct  bodies,  fly.' 

"  All  that  the  metaphysician  can  do  is  to  appeal  to  the 
perception  which  all  men  form,  to  separate  this  from  the 
others  with  which  it  is  joined,  and  make  it  stand  out 
singly  and  simply,  that  it  may  shine  and  be  seen  in  its 
own  light,  and  with  this  the  mind  will  be  satisfied :  — 

"  *  Who  thinks  of  asking  if  the  sun  is  light, 
Observing  that  it  lightens  1 ' 

Those  who  attempt  anything  more,  and  to  peer  into  the 
object,  will  find  that  the  light  —  like  that  of  the  sun  — 
darkens  as  they  gaze  upon  it.  '  When  I  burned  in  de- 
sire to  question  them  further,  they  made  themselves  — 
air,  into  which  they  vanished.' " 

The  Eleatics,  who  flourished  five  and  six  hundred 
jears  before  Christ,  made  much  of  Being  to  oi^,  and  were 
followed  by  the  Greek  philosophers  generally.  I  do  not 
believe  that  they  attached  too  much  importance  to  this 
idea.  That  there  are  existing  things  is  the  fundamental 
position  in  metaphysics.  It  is  a  fact  to  be  assumed,  and 
uo  attempt  should  be  made  to  prove  it.  Any  professed 
proof  will  turn  out  to   be   delusive,  as  we  cannot  find 


BEING   POWER  AND  INDEPENDENCE.  79 

anything  simpler  or  more  certain  by  which  to  establish 
it.  The  fault  of  the  Greek  philosophers,  and  especially 
of  the  Eleatics,  consisted  in  making  affirmations  about 
Being  which  have  no  meaning.  All  that  we  can  say  of 
Being  is  that  it  is  Being. 

They  make  known  Thikgs  as  exercising  Po- 
tency. —  It  might  be  maintained  that  through  all  the 
senses  we  know  bodily  objects  as  exercising  power  over 
us.  We  know  tastes  and  smells,  and  colors  and  sounds, 
as  influencing  us,  and  producing  a  change  in  us.  We 
certainly  know  objects  as  resisting  our  muscular  energy. 
It  is  equally  certain,  some  would  represent  it  as  more 
certain,  that  we  know  the  will  an(i  other  mental  faculties 
as  exercising  power  over  the  body  and  over  states  of  the 
mind.  Potency  is  thus  an  element  in  all  primary  cog- 
nitions. Everj'thing  we  know  we  know  as  exercising 
power  on  us  or  on  some  other  object. 

(1.)  It  is  clear  that  if  we  do  not  know  power  intui- 
tively we  can  never  know  it  by  any  derivative  or  dis- 
cursive process.  But  consciousness  being  our  witness, 
we  have  an  idea  of  power  quite  as  certainly  as  we  have 
of  extension  or  of  thinking. 

(2.)  While  we  obtain  in  this  way  our  knowledge  of 
things  within  and  without  us  as  exercising  power,  it  is 
only  by  the  gathered  experience  that  we  are  able  to  de- 
termine what  is  the  precise  nature  of  that  power,  what 
its  laws  and  its  bounds.  All  that  we  know  directly  of  the 
power  of  matter  by  the  senses  is  very  limited.  We  know 
»dors,  and  tastes,  and  colors  as  producing  a  sensitive 
i^ffection  in  us.  What  these  are,  and  what  their  proper- 
ties in  other  respects,  we  have  to  learn  by  a  process  of 
observation  ;  and  we  discover  that  odors  affect  us  only 
vvhen  in  a  state  of  vapov,  tastes  only  when  the  bodies  are 
liquid  und  that  sounds  and  colors  are  made  known  by 


80  SELF-CONSCIOUSNESS. 

andiilations.  By  the  muscular  sense  we  know  bodies 
Bimply  as  resisting  our  energy,  and  we  have  to  go  tc 
physical  science  to  determine  what  are  the  laws  of  energy 
generally.  It  is  the  same  with  the  power  exercised  by 
any  of  our  mental  capacities.  We  know  that  there  is 
power  to  produce  an  effect  in  every  operation  of  the 
mind,  but  it  is  the  office  of  psychological  science  to  de- 
termine the  rules  and  limits  of  the  faculties. 

They  make  known  Things  as  having  Independ- 
ence; THAT  IS,  AS  Existing  Independent  op  the 
Contemplative  Mind.  —  The  thing  does  not  exist 
merely  because  the  mind  contemplates  it.  The  mind 
contemplates  it  because  it  exists.  It  does  not  begin  to 
exist  when  I  begin  to  notice  it.  Nor  does  it  cease  to 
exist  because  we  have  ceased  to  observe  it.  We  have  all 
this  involved  in  the  knowledge  conveyed  both  by  the 
outward  and  inward  senses.  This  does  not  imply  that 
the  thing  has  any  absolute  independence,  that  it  is  inde- 
pendent of  God.  All  that  is  meant  is  that  it  exists  in- 
dependent of  the  mind  taking  notice  of  it. 

By  laying  down  this  position  we  are  delivered  from  a 
position  taken  up  by  many  in  the  present  day,  and  which 
lands  them  first  in  confusion,  and  in  the  end  in  skepti- 
cism. Taking  advantage  of  the  ambiguity  in  the  use  of 
the  phrases  object  and  subject,  they  tell  us  that  object 
always  involves  subject,  and  subject  object,  and  that  in 
fact  our  knowledge,  if  knowledge  it  can  be  called,  is 
made  up  of  two  factors  which  cannot  be  separated.  The 
result  is  that  we  cannot  tell  what  any  one  external  object 
is,  for  it  is  mixed  up  with  the  subject  mind,  which  gives 
it  in  a  certain  form  and  a  color.  On  the  other  hand, 
we  can  scarcely  ascertain  what  the  subject  mind  is,  it  ia 
BO  dependent  on  the  objects  which  call  it  into  exercise 
The  result  of  the  whole  is  a  growing  feeling  of  doubt  a* 


SUBSTANCE.  81 

to  the  reality  of  things.  Even  when  they  are  acknowl- 
sdged  to  be  real,  it  is  supposed  to  be  impossible  to  de- 
termine the  precise  nature  of  the  things  supposed  to  be 
real.  Now,  this  subtle  metaphysical  error  is  to  be  met  by 
affirming  that  the  thing  is  contemplated  as  it  is,  and  that 
the  subject  mind  is  so  constituted  as  to  be  able  to  cog- 
nize it.  If  asked  for  proof  of  all  this,  the  reply  is  that 
we  have  the  same  evidence  of  the  mind  contemplating 
the  thing  as  it  is  that  we  have  of  its  contemplating  the 
thing.  It  should  be  the  business  of  metaphysics  not  to 
confound  the  subject  and  object,  but  to  point  out  clearly 
tiie  distinction  between  them. 

SECTION  III. 

SUBSTANCE. 

We  have  seen  that  both  body  and  mind  are  known 
by  us  through  the  senses  as  possessing  Being,  Independ- 
ence, and  Potency.  Whatever  possesses  these  may  be  re- 
garded as  a  substance.  Some  would  have  us  say,  fourth- 
ly, having  independent  existence,  or  independent  of  any 
creature.  But  the  difficulty  is  to  determine  what  con- 
stitutes independent  existence.  All  things  are  depend- 
ent on  God,  and  seem  more  or  less  dependent  on  other 
things.  Still  there  is  vague  truth  in  the  statement. 
These  mai'ks  give  a  definite  meaning  to  the  phrase. 
We  see  that  there  are  two  substances  known  to  us  — 
mind  and  body. 

Hamilton  says  that  substance  may  be  regarded  as  de- 
rived from  one  or  other  of  two  words  :  from  substo,  to 
stand  under  ;  or  from  subsistc^  to  subsist  of  itself.  Des- 
v^artes  defined  substance  as  that  which  subsists  of  itself. 
Spinoza    gave    a    more    complex   definition :    "  By    sub- 

itance  I  understand  that  which  is  m  itself  and  conceived 
a 


62  SELF-CONSCIOUSNESS. 

by  itself ;  that  is  to  say,  that  of  which  the  concept  can 
be  formed  without  needing  the  concept  of  any  other 
thing."  Locke  understood  substance  as  something  that 
stands  under.  It  is  evident  that  substance,  thus  under- 
stood, must  come  in  very  awkwardly  under  a  system 
which  derives  all  our  ideas  from  sensation  and  reflection, 
as  it  cannot  be  derived  from  either  of  these  sources.  He 
does  not  deny  the  existence  of  substance,  but  he  repre- 
sents it  as  something  unknown  and  unknowable.  Most 
of  his  followers  contrived  some  way  or  other  to  get  rid 
of  this  unknown  thing  as  being  something  superfluous, 
and  of  the  existence  of  which  we  have  no  proof.  In  the 
text,  substance  is  represented  as  a  thing  known  and  in- 
volved in  our  intuitive  knowledge  both  of  body  and 
mind. 

Body  is  a  Substance.  —  It  is  so,  according  to  our 
definition.  We  know  it  as  existing,  as  existing  inde- 
pendent of  our  cognition  of  it,  and  as  exercising  power. 

Locke,  we  have  seen,  represented  substance  as  an  un- 
known support  of  things.  Berkeley  showed  that  there 
was  no  evidence  of  body  having  any  such  support.  He 
did  not  deny  the  existence  of  matter,  but  he  denied  that 
it  was  a  substance.  We  meet  Berkeley  not  by  standing 
up  for  a  support  or  substratum  unknown  and  unknow- 
able, but  by  maintaining  that  we  actually  know  body 
\s  having  an  abiding  existence. 

Mind  is  a  Substance.  —  We  make  this  affirmation 
on  the  same  ground  as  we  maintain  that  body  is  a  sub- 
stance. In  every  act  of  consciousness  we  know  it  as 
exerting  and  exercising  power,  and  this  independent  of 
our  taking  any  observation  of  it. 

As  Berkeley  denied  that  body  is  a  substance,  so  Hume 
ienied  on  much  the  same  grounds  that  mind  is  a  sub- 
tance.     He  represented  it  as  a  mere  series  of  percep 


MIND   AND    BODY  ARE   SUBSTANCES.  83 

• 

fcions,  with  a  unity  given  to  it  by  the  imagination.  Now 
we  meet  this  by  showing  that  in  every  act  of  conscious- 
ness we  know  self  as  existing  and  exercising  potency  of 
Bome  kind. 

Mind  and  Body  are  Different  Substances. — 
In  this  respect  they  are  both  alike:  that  they  are  sub- 
stances. As  such,  they  have  the  three  points  of  affinity 
so  often  mentioned,  and  they  may  have  many  others. 
There  may  be  correlations  of  an  important  kind  between 
their  various  properties,  bat  they  are  known  to  us  as 
different.  In  particular,  first  they  are  known  to  us  by 
different  organs :  the  one  by  the  senses,  the  other  by 
self-consciousness.  Then,  secondly,  they  are  known  to 
us  as  possessing  very  different  attributes  :  the  one  is 
known  as  extended  and  resisting,  the  other  as  thinking, 
musing,  resolving.  These  differences  entitle  us  to  re- 
gard them  as  different  substances. 

Descartes  separated  mind  and  matter  so  entirely  that 
the  one  could  hold  no  communication  with  the  other 
except,  as  Malebranche  brought  out  more  fully,  through 
an  interposed  divine  action  acting  as  an  occasional  cause. 
Proceeding  on  the  same  principle  that  mind  and  matter 
could  not  act  on  each  other,  Leibnitz  brought  in  his 
doctrine  of  Preestablished  Harmony,  according  to  which 
they  act  in  unison,  not  by  reciprocal  action,  but  by  an 
order  established  in  each,  whereby,  like  two  clocks,  they 
correspond  the  one  to  the  other.  But  there  is  no  need 
•ii  resorting  to  any  such  far-fetched  hypotheses.  We  may 
suppose  that  the  two  act  and  react  on  each  other,  accord- 
ing to  laws  not  yet  determined.  An  action  goes  along  a 
sensor  nerve  to  the  sensorium,  and  is  thence  transmitted 
to  the  periphery  of  the  brain  and  to  the  cells  there, 
where  it  calls  forth  a  mental  power,  with  which  it  co- 
operates, and  becomes  a  perception  of  an  external  object, 


84  SELF-CONSCIOUSNESS. 

say  a  rose.  The  rose  may,  according  to  purely  mental 
laws,  give  rise,  by  an  association  to  an  entirely  different 
idea,  say  to  a  lily,  and  we  may  then  compare  the  rose 
and  the  lily.  The  law  of  the  conservation  of  physical 
force  must  regulate  all  the  action  as  far  as  the  cells  in 
the  circumference  of  the  brain.  When  the  action  be- 
xsomes  purely  mental,  as  in  all  recollections,  judgments, 
imaginations,  moral  sentiments,  and  volitions,  there  is 
no  reason  to  believe  that  the  doctrine  of  the  conservation 
of  energy  has  any  direct  place.  Still  it  is  conceivable 
that  even  in  purely  mental  acts  there  may  be  a  laid-up 
physical  energy,  which  goes  out  in  brain  action.  All 
this  may  be  admitted  without  giving  any  countenance  to 
materialism.  It  has  all  along  been  allowed  that,  as  man 
is  constituted,  mind  and  body  have  a  very  intimate  con- 
nection, and  this  may  be  the  way  in  which  this  connec- 
tion is  kept  up.  But  we  need  a  great  many  careful  ob- 
servations and  experiments  before  we  can  determine  the 
precise  relation  of  physical  and  mental  potency. 

SECTION  IV. 
Locke's  theory  as  to  the  origin  of  our  ideas. 

Locke  gets  the  materials  of  all  our  ideas  from  Sensa- 
tion and  Reflection.  By  sensation,  he  means  the  same 
as  the  Greeks  did  by  ata^T/ats,  and  as  we  do  by  sense- 
perception  ;  and  by  reflecticm,  much  the  same  as  we  do 
by  self-consciousness.  Upon  the  materials  so  supplied 
certain  faculties  work,  such  as  Perception,  Retention, 
and  thus  fashion  all  our  ideas.  This  theory  will  re- 
quire to  be  criticised  as  we  advance,  and  it  will  be  shown 
that  there  are  ideas  such  as  that  of  moral  good  and  evil, 
which  cannot  thus  be  obtained.  But,  meantime,  let  it 
be  remarked  that  by  these  two  inlets  we  get  a  great 


TRAINING   TO   HABITS   OF  REFLECTION.  85 

many  of  our  ideas ;  by  the  senses  of  bodies  as  external 
to  us,  as  extended  and  resisting  our  energy  and  resisting 
one  another,  and  by  self-consciousness  of  the  mind  in  its 
various  states,  say  perceiving,  remembering,  imagining, 
judging,  discerning  between  good  and  evil,  under  emo- 
tion, or  as  resolving. 

The  word  reflection  might  now  be  applied  to  the  more 
special  notice  which  the  mind  takes  of  itself  and  ita 
operations.  In  this  there  is  an  exercise  of  will  joining 
on  to  self-consciousness ;  it  is  a  voluntary  consciousness. 
It  is  mainly  b}''  this  power  that  the  science  of  Psychology 
is  constructed.  We  observe  the  operations  of  the  mind 
as  they  pass,  and  thus  are  enabled  to  analyze,  to  classify, 
and  arrange  them. 

SECTION  V. 

TRAINING  TO  HABITS  OP   REFLECTION. 

Man  is  naturally  inclined  to  look  out  of  himself  before 
he  looks  within.  There  is  a  propriety  in  this.  The  mind 
must  have  materials  of  thought  before  it  thinks.  But  it 
is  of  importance  that  we  be  trained  to  bend  back  our  at- 
tention to  and  notice  what  is  passing  in  our  minds,  and 
thus  know  ourselves.  We  shall  be  led  into  great  mistakes 
if  we  do  not  from  time  to  time  look  into  our  inward  state 
and  search  our  motives.  This,  I  admit,  may  be  carried 
too  far.  There  may  be  too  much  of  self-consciousness ; 
no,  not  too  much,  but  a  misdirected  self -inspection.  In- 
stead of  allowing  the  plant  to  grow  under  the  air  and 
sunshine  provided  for  it,  we  may  be  injuring  it  by  ever 
searching  into  its  roots  to  find  whether  it  is  growing. 
Still,  reflection,  which  always  includes  inspection,  is  one 
of  the  peculiar  properties  of  humanity,  distinguishing 
man  from  the  brutes,  and  should  be  called  forth  in  the 


86  SELF   CONSCIOUSNESS. 

opening  years  of  manhood  and  womanhood,  and  con- 
tinued through  life.  Spontaneous  thought  comes  forth 
first,  constituting  what  is  called  "  first  thoughts  ;  "  but 
reflective  thought  should  come  after  to  detect  error,  to 
cast  off  the  mistakes  associated  with  the  truth,  and  secure 
certainty.  We  should  not  be  satisfied  with  things  as  they 
appear  nor  with  first  impressions  or  first  thoughts,  nor 
with  the  opinions  we  have  formed  in  the  past;  we  must 
acquire  and  train  a  habit  of  self-examiuation,  and  make 
them  all  pass  in  review  before  us. 


BOOK   SECOND. 

THE  REPRODUCTIVE   OR  REPRESENTATIVE  POWERS. 

They  are  so  called  because  they  produce  and  present 
once  more,  and  it  may  be  again  and  again,  what  has 
been  previously  before  the  mind.  Some  of  them  are 
farther  representative,  inasmuch  as  the  ideas  raised  up 
by  them  stand  for  absent  objects ;  thus  the  memory 
brings  up  an  object  or  event  once  before  the  mind,  but 
not  now  present.  This  can  scarcely  be  said  of  them  all, 
as  for  instance  the  imagination,  in  v^hich  there  is  no 
other  object  than  the  image  itself. 

I  have  seen  Mont  Blanc.  Having  done  so,  I  retain  it 
in  such  a  way  as  to  be  able  to  recall  it.  It  comes  up 
from  time  to  time  in  the  shape  of  an  image  according 
to  the  laws  of  association.  It  is  recognized  as  having 
been  before  my  mind  in  time  past.  I  can  put  it  into 
new  forms  and  dispositions.  I  can  think  and  speak  of  it 
by  means  of  the  name  which  has  been  given  it.  In  such 
an  exercise  we  have  the  mind  exercising  six  different 
capacities  ;  these  we  call 

I.  The  Retentive.  IV.  The  Recognitive. 

II.  The  Recalling  or  V.  The  Compositivk 

Phantasy.  VI.  The  Symbolic. 
III.  The  Associative. 

It  has  been  shown  (Introd.,  Sect.  IV.)  that  the  mind  or 
self  possesses  power,  or  rather  powers.     I  am  now  seek- 


88  THE  REPRODUCTIVE  OR  REPRESENTATIVE   POWERS. 

ing  to  unfold  the  various  faculties.  But  it  is  to  be  un- 
derstood that  these  faculties  are  not  separate  personali- 
ties or  things.  They  are  simply  modes  or  activities  of 
the  one  self.  Thus  Sense-Perception  is  the  mind  per- 
ceiving external  objects,  and  Self-Consciousness  is  the 
mind  perceiving  self.  The  same  remark  may  be  made 
as  to  the  other  powers.  Thus  the  Memory  is  merely  the 
mind  remembering  past  experiences ;  the  Conscience, 
the  mind  discerning  good  and  evil ;  the  Will,  the  mind 
choosing.  This  general  truth  holds  true  of  all  the  facul- 
ties ;  it  should  be  remembered,  but  need  not  be  repeated 
under  each  head.  It  is  also  to  be  kept  in  mind  that  the 
powers  do  not  act  independently  of,  but  rather  with,  each 
other.  The  Phantasy  and  Association  proceed  on  the 
Retentive  power.  We  shall  see  that  in  the  Memory  and 
in  the  Imagination  there  are  several  powers  involved, 
and  that  the  one  supplies  materials  to  the  other.  By 
taking  these  views  we  avoid  the  objections  of  Herbart 
and  the  metaphysicians  of  the  school  of  Leipsic,  who 
complain  of  the  way  in  which  the  mind  is  mangled  and 
the  parts  are  separated  by  psychologists. 


CHAPTER  I. 

EETENTION. 

Theke  is  a  difference  between  the  state  of  our  minds 
before  we  have  observed  an  occurrence  and  after  we 
have  observed  it.  There  is  a  difference  between  one 
who  has  noticed  an  event,  or  passed  through  an  ex- 
perience, and  one  who  has  not.  Having  been  at  the 
London  exhibition  of  1851,  I  have  something  continu- 
ing with  me  which  I  could  not  have  had  unless  I  had 
been  there.  Having  once  passed  through  a  period  of 
severe  illness,  having  passed  through  the  disruption  of 
the  Church  of  Scotland  in  1843,  I  have  a  series  of  im- 
pressions and  lessons  not  possessed  by  those  who  have 
not  had  such  an  experience.  Whatever  has  passed  under 
consciousness  may  be  retained ;  it  always  produces  some 
effect  which  may  remain.  It  is  so  retained  that  it  can 
be  recalled  according  to  certain  laws  of  association. 

We  cannot  say  much  more  about  the  conservative 
power,  as  Hamilton  calls  it.  In  what  state  is  an  idea, 
say  of  London  or  Paris,  when  it  is  not  immediately  under 
the  consciousness  ?  Is  it  dead,  or  simply  dormant  ?  It 
is  certainly  not  altogether  defunct,  for  it  can  be  wakened. 
We  have  something  analogous  (though  not  identical)  in 
the  energy  potential  as  distinguished  from  the  energy 
real  or  kinetic  in  physical  operation.  The  energy  which 
came  from  the  sun  in  the  geological  age  of  the  coal 
measures  is  laid  up  in  the  coal,  and  comes  out  in  certain 


90      THE  REPRODUCTIVE   OR   REPRESENTATIVE  POWERS. 

circumstances  in  heat  to  warm  our  bodies  or  drive  our 
steam  engines.  Having  passed  through  a  conscious  expe- 
rience, the  mind  has  the  acquired  capacity  of  calling  it 
up.  It  is  actually  recalled  when  there  is  in  the  mind 
an  idea  associated  with  it.     The  retention  depends 

Firsts  On  the  state  of  the  brain,  more  especially  on  cells 
in  the  gray  matter  on  the  periphery  of  the  brain.  Every 
one  has  felt  that  in  certain  states  of  the  brain  we  have 
difficulty  in  remembering  anything.  The  ardent  student, 
the  anxious  business  man,  may  so  exhaust  his  cerebral 
force  that  nothing  will  be  retained  in  his  mind.  In  such 
cases  perfect  rest,  particularly  "  balmy  sleep,  is  nature's 
sweet  restorer."  From  probably  much  the  same  causes, 
we  find  that  when  we  are  engrossed  with  any  one  care 
or  distracted  by  several  things  we  are  apt  to  forget  the 
extraneous  things  which  have  passed  before  us  momen- 
tarily ;  a  piece  of  news  in  which  we  are  not  particularly 
interested,  given  us  at  a  time  when  wo  were  absorbed 
with  other  things,  may  never  come  up  again. 

We  have  come  into  a  border  country  where  there  is  a 
constant  warfare  raging,  and  it  is  difficult  to  determine 
the  exact  bounding  line  between  mind  and  body.  This 
admission  does  not  go  to  establish  materialism.  Every- 
body grants  that  mind  and  body  are  intimately  con- 
nected, and  we  have  simply  come  upon  one  of  the  points 
of  connection.  No  intellectual  faculty  of  the  mind  is  so 
dependent  on  the  brain  as  the  memory,  and  retention  is 
one  of  the  conditions,  or  rather  one  of  the  concurring 
agencies,  in  memory.  There  are  some  positions  which 
can  be  defended.  Every  idea,  every  feeling,  is  thought 
to  tend  to  produce  an  effect  on  the  periphery  of  the 
brain,  and  probably  to  give  a  particular  disposition  or 
set  to  the  cells  in  that  region.  "It  may  be  maintained 
that   the   concurrent  action  of   the   part  of  the  brain 


RETENTION.  91 

affected  seems  to  be  necessary  to  our  recollection  of  an 
occurrence.  When  the  idea  or  feeling  produces  little  or 
no  effect  on  the  brain  there  may  be  no  recollection,  or 
only  a  very  dim  one.  When  there  is  a  lesion  or  a  dis- 
ease in  the  brain,  or  in  certain  parts  of  it,  we  are  apt  to 
lose  our  memories,  or  have  them  deranged. 

Secondly^  Retention  depends  on  the  mental  force  in 
the  original  feeling  or  idea.  This  second  condition  may 
be  connected  with  the  first.  The  strong  or  lively  thought 
produces  a  deeper  impression  on  the  brain,  which  aids 
the  remembrance  of  it.  But  the  two  essentially  differ. 
The  profundity  of  the  thought  or  the  power  of  the  senti- 
ment is  not  caused  by  the  organism,  say  the  discoveries  of 
science,  or  the  affection  of  a  mother.  We  must  all  have 
noticed  that  events  which  have  not  interested  us,  or  to 
which  we  have  given  no  attention,  are  apt  to  pass  away 
speedily  from  the  memory,  whereas  others,  which  have 
exercised  our  understanding,  or  called  forth  emotion,  are 
remembered  for  years  or  our  whole  lives.  It  is  no  mat- 
ter what  the  sort  of  mental  power  directed  towards  an 
event  be  —  whether  it  be  the  intellect,  the  affections,  or 
the  will  —  it  tends  to  keep  it  ready  to  be  called  up.  On 
the  other  hand,  when  no  special  mental  power  is  exerted 
the  occurrence  may  never  come  up  again.  This  is  a 
subject  worthy  of  being  prosecuted  and  illustrated,  and 
opens  to  us  many  interesting  and  instructive  views  of 
the  operations  of  the  mind.  But  it  may  be  expediently 
deferred  till  we  come  to  speak  of  the  secondary  laws  of 
association  —  those  that  modify  the  primary  and  make 
them  take  a  particular  direction. 

The  laws  now  announced,  and  to  be  afterwards  more 
fully  expounded,  may  help  to  explain  what  are  called  un- 
conscious mental  operations ;  that  is,  operations  which 
have  passed  in  the  mind,  but  of  which  we  are  not  coii- 


92        THE  REPRODUCTIVE  OR  REPRESENTATIVE   POWERS. 

scious.  There  are,  undoubtedly,  mental  exercises  wliieli 
are  not  recalled  in  ordinary  circumstances.  There  are 
acts  of  the  will  implied,  and  I  believe  also  of  the  under- 
standing, in  every  step  which  a  man  takes  in  walking 
towards  a  particular  place.  The  foot  will  not  move 
without  a  volition  of  the  mind,  and  there  is  thought 
implied  in  its  carrying  him  towards  an  intended  place. 
Yet  at  the  end  of  his  walk  he  may  not  remember  one  of 
the  acts  of  his  will  or  judgment.  It  is  not  just  correct 
to  call  these  unconscious  acts.  He  may  have  been  con- 
scious of  each  of  them  at  the  time,  and  if  there  was  any- 
thing to  call  his  attention  to  them  —  say  his  taking  a 
false  step  —  he  would  have  felt  that  he  had  been  con- 
scious of  them  and  he  would  have  remembei-ed  them. 
But  there  was  nothing  in  the  ordinary  steps  taken  to 
make  him  notice  them,  and  so  they  passed  away.  There 
was  a  momentary  consciousness,  but  there  is  no  memory 
of  them.  I  do  not  agree  with  the  theory  of  those  who 
ascribe  the  creations  of  genius  —  say  Shakespeare's  Ham- 
let, or  Milton's  Satan,  or  Goethe's  Faust  —  to  unconscious 
mental  action.  True,  these  men  might  not  be  able  or 
care  to  analyze  like  a  metaphysician  the  processes  that 
passed  in  their  minds ;  but  there  was  a  cognizance  of 
them  at  the  moment  in  their  concrete  state,  and  there 
may  have  been  a  joy  in  them.  There  may  not  have 
been  a  consciousness  of  them  in  the  sense  of  rolling 
them  as  a  sweet  morsel  under  the  tongue.  They  passed 
through  the  minds  as  the  fresh  wind  passed,  by  breath- 
ing, through  the  bodies ;  but  they  were  not  detained 
to  cherish  a  feeling  of  self-complacency,  and  the  poets 
passed  on  to  some  new  thought  or  emotion. 

The  question  has  often  been  started.  Do  we  remember 
everything  and  forget  nothing  ?  I  am  not  sure  that  we 
can  certainly  decide  this  question.     On  the  one  hand, 


RETENTION.  93 

there  have  been  thoughts  and  feelings  in  our  minds 
which  never  have  returned.  On  the  other  hand,  there 
are  experiences  which  start  up  like  ghosts  from  the  grave 
where  we  imagined  we  had  buried  them.  We  have  all 
of  us  had  memories  coming  up  unexpectedly  of  friends, 
of  incidents,  that  had  not  been  thought  of  for  long  years, 
and  that  now  appear  to  give  us  joy  or  reproach  us.  But 
I  cannot  believe  that  every  one  of  the  hundreds  of  sen- 
sations, of  fancies,  of  opinions,  of  fears  and  hopes,  which 
pass  through  our  minds  in  a  few  minutes,  is  capable  of 
being  reproduced.  It  is  a  happy  thing  when  thus  our 
trivial  thoughts  pass  into  oblivion  ;  otherwise  our  minds 
would  be  filled  with  innumerable  details  and  become  as 
trifling  as  these  are.  Those  that  come  up  unexpectedly 
do  so  because  they  have  left  a  deep  impression  at  tho 
first,  and  they  awake  because  stirred  up  by  some  corre- 
lated present  thought. 

We  have  curious  instances  recorded  of  persons  who 
have  lost  certain  recollections,  certain  kinds  of  recollec- 
tions, while  they  retain  others,  their  minds  all  the  while 
being  otherwise  entire.  It  has  occurred  to  me  that  we 
may  be  able  so  far  to  account  for  these  phenomena.  It 
is  allowed  on  all  hands  that  many  of  the  operations  of 
the  mind  are  dependent  on  cerebral  cooperation,  with- 
out which  they  would  cease,  or  be  carried  on  with  dif- 
ficulty. There  are  physiologists  who  allot  a  special 
locality  to  each  of  the  senses  in  the  brain.  It  appears  to 
me  that  the  concurrent  action  of  the  sense  centres,  or  at 
least  of  the  brain,  may  often  or  always  be  necessary  to 
the  recalling  of  the  scenes  perceived.  When  there  is  an 
imperfection  or  a  lesion  in  any  of  the  sense  centres,  it 
may  be  difficult  or  impossible  to  produce  a  phantasm  of 
the  object,  or  it  may  be  faint  or  disfigured.  I  have 
heard  of  persons   who  had  not  lost  their  eyesight,  but 


94        THE  REPRODUCTIVE  OR  REPRESENTATIVE   POWERS. 

owing  apparently  to  a  disease  in  the  brain  had  lost  the 
power  of  recalling  the  visible  scenes  they  had  witnessed. 
It  is  well  known  that  the  remembrance  of  forms  and 
colors  by  persons  who  have  become  blind  is  apt  in  time 
to  become  dim.  The  same  may  be  true  of  the  other 
senses.  When  the  organs  of  taste  and  smell,  supposed 
by  Ferrier  to  be  in  the  back  of  the  head,  are  diseased  or 
out  of  order,  the  reproduction  of  the  corresponding  sen- 
sations may  be  indistinct.  Tunes  cannot  be  recalled,  it 
may  be  presumed,  when  the  organs  of  Corti  are  not  in 
healthy  working  order. 

It  is  generally  believed  that  the  foro  part  of  the  brain 
is  more  specially  connected  with  intellectual  action  ;  and 
disease  there  will  be  apt  to  affect  our  recollection  of  all 
operations  requiring  thought,  such  as  scientific  truths. 
Perhaps  the  cerebral  lobes  in  the  fore  parts  are  more  par- 
ticularly the  centres  of  motion  and  our  ideas  of  motion  ; 
and  when  there  is  a  lesion  in  certain  parts  we  may  find 
difl&culty,  as  some  do,  in  imaging  movements. 

It  is  now  acknowledged  by  almost  all  that  M.  Broca 
has  established  that  there  is  some  connection  between 
the  third  convolution  of  the  left  side  of  the  brain  and 
the  power  of  using  language.  When  there  is  disorgani- 
zation in  that  part  there  is  experienced  a  difficulty  in 
recalling  words,  especially  names,  or  in  making  an  ap- 
propriate use  of  them. 


CHAPTER    n. 

THE  EECALLING  POWER    OR    PHANTASY. 
SECTION  I. 

ITS   NATURE. 

As  long  as  an  object  is  merely  retained  it  is  not  beforo 
the  consciousness,  and  in  fact  may  ne^er  be  so.  But  it 
may  come  into  consciousness  according  to  laws  of  asso- 
ciation to  be  unfolded  in  the  next  chapter. 

Every  man,  woman,  and  child  has  a  chamber  where 
he  or  she  has  laid  up  a  store  of  images  or  photographs 
of  the  objects  which  have  been  perceived.  It  may  be 
interesting  to  take  a  look  into  it  and  inspect  its  contents, 
which  will  be  found  to  be  very  curious.  Every  man  has 
his  own  chamber  of  imagery  with  its  separate  furniture, 
grave  or  gay.     It  is  the  place  of  figures  and  fancies. 

I  call  the  power  which  reproduces  in  old  or  in  new 
forms  our  past  experiences  the  Phantasy,  a  phrase  em- 
ploj'ed  by  Aristotle  to  denote  one  of  the  faculties  of  the 
mind,  and  which  was  used  in  the  English  tongue  down 
to  the  beginning  of  the  last  century,  when  it  was  abbre- 
viated into  Fancy,  with  a  more  confined  meaning.  The 
product  may  be  called  the  Phantasm  —  always  to  be  dis- 
tinguished from  the  phantom,  in  which  the  object  is 
imaginary.  Phantasy  is  a  good  phrase  to  designate  the 
remembrance  or  imaging  of  a  single  object,  say  a  lily,  as 
distinguished  from  a  general  idea,  such  as  the  class  lily. 
The  faculty  may  also  be  called  the  Imaging  or  Pictorial 
power,  only  there  is  no  image  or  picture  except  when 
the  reproduction  is  of  an  object  perceived  by  the  sense 


96        THE   REPRODUCTIVE   OR   REPRESENTATIVE   POWERS. 

of  siglit —  the  other  senses,  however,  being  also  capable 
of  reviving  what  has  passed  before  us.  It  is  the  mind's 
eye  of  Shakespeare  :  "  In  my  mind's  eye,  Horatio." 

All  these  phrases  are  figurative,  always  implying  and 
pointing  to  a  reality.  We  talk  of  an  image,  a  likeness, 
a  representation,  an  idea.  In  what  sense  ?  So  far  as 
the  sense  of  sight  is  concerned,  there  is  an  image  on  the 
retina  of  the  eye.  But  this  is  so  situated  that  it  is  not 
seen  naturally  ;  in  fact,  it  has  been  discovered  by  science. 
The  object  is  perceived  upright,  but  it  is  inverted  in  the 
eye.  Then,  so  far  as  the  other  senses  are  concerned, 
there  is  no  image,  properly  speaking.  There  is  merely 
an  affection  of  the  organ  —  of  the  ear,  the  touch,  the 
palate,  the  nostrils.  Speaking  rigidly,  there  is  no  image 
of  a  taste  or  a  sound.  Even  so  far  as  vision  is  concerned, 
the  image  on  the  retina  cannot  be  said  to  be  perceived 
by  the  mind.  It  is  merely  an  affection  of  the  organism, 
of  such  a  kind  that  it  becomes  the  fitting  means  by 
which  the  exact  form  and  color  of  the  object  are  known ; 
just  —  and  not  otherwise  —  as  an  ear  makes  known  the 
sounds  emitted.  In  respect  of  an  image,  there  can  be  no 
such  thing  in  the  brain  in  regard  to  any  of  the  senses. 
In  all  the  senses  there  is  an  affection  not  only  of  the 
physical  part  of  the  senses  proper,  but  of  the  brain  ;  but 
this  does  not  take  the  shape  of  a  form  of  any  kind.  If 
there  is  no  figure  in  the  brain,  still  less  can  there  be  in 
the  mind.  A  figure  is  an  extended  material  thing.  The 
figure  of  a  tree  is  no  more  in  the  mind  than  the  tree  is. 
In  all  the  senses  the  perception  is  simply  a  knowledge  of 
an  object  under  a  certain  aspect,  say  as  having  a  form  or 
odor.  In  this  sense  only  is  an  idea  the  representation  of 
an  object.  There  is  really  no  likeness  between  gold  as 
out  of  the  mind  and  the  idea  of  gold  in  the  mind.  There 
is  a  correspondence  between  the  two,  but  no  identity. 


THE  RECALLING  POWER   OR  PHANTASY.  97 

In  fact,  this  imaging  power  is  merely  one  of  the  fac- 
tors in  the  memory.  In  memory  there  is  a  recognition 
of  an  object  or  event  as  having  been  before  us  in  time 
past.  But  in  the  mere  imaging  there  is  no  such  recog- 
nition and  no  reference  to  time.  We  may  have  a  phan- 
tasm of  a  flower  without  any  belief  as  to  where  or  when 
we  saw  it,  or  indeed  as  to  whether  we  ever  saw  it.  But 
in  ail  proper  memory  there  is  an  image  or  phantasm, 
dull  or  vivid,  representing  the  object  or  event  recognized. 

It  has  to  be  added  that  the  mind  has  the  power  of 
forming  imaginary  figures.  These  are  compositions  con- 
structed by  the  mind  out  of  realities  experienced.  We 
have  now,  not  memory,  but  imagination.  Our  imagina- 
tions, as  every  one  knows,  are  often  more  lively  than 
our  recollections.  The  mind  delights  to  form  such  pic- 
tures, and  it  is  the  office  of  the  poet  and  novelist  to  raise 
them  up  by  the  presentations  they  furnish. 

First,  We  can  thus  reproduce  the  material  got  ly  any 
of  the  senses.  We  remember  tastes  of  salt,  of  sugar,  of 
jelly,  of  apples,  of  oranges,  and  hundreds  of  other  things 
that  are  sour  or  sweet,  or  do  otherwise  powerfully  affect 
our  palate  pleasantly  or  unpleasantly.  These  recollec- 
tions are  not  especially  inspiring  or  poetical,  but  are 
cherished  by  gourmands,  who  feel  as  it  were  the  taste  in 
their  mouth  of  the  food  they  relish.  We  can  recall  the 
sensation  produced  b}^  odors,  say  from  roses,  lilies,  and 
violets,  or  from  assafoetida,  swamps,  and  malarial  pools. 
Some  of  these  are  of  an  ethereal  nature,  and  have  a 
place  allowed  them  in  poetry.  We  can  call  up  a  thou- 
sand kinds  of  sounds,  as  the  voices  of  our  friends,  the 
sighings  of  the  breeze  or  stream,  the  barking  of  the  dog, 
the  mewing  of  the  cat,  the  bellowing  of  the  bull,  the 
lowing  of  cattle,  the  chirp  or  the  song  of  birds  —  say  of 
the  thrush  or  nightingale,  the  screech  of  the  eagle,  the 
7 


98       THE   REPRODUCTIVE   OR   REPRESENTATIVE   POWERS. 

rasping  of  the  file,  the  mower  whetting  his  scythe,  the 
roar  of  the  storm,  the  lashing  of  the  wave  on  the  shore, 
the  rolling  of  the  thunder,  the  crash  of  the  avalanche. 
People  endowed  with  a  musical  ear  can  recall  tunes,  and 
are  prompted  to  repeat  them,  and  some  are  constantly 
hearing  musical  airs. 

"  Music,  when  soft  voices  die, 
Vibiates  in  the  memory  ; 
Odors,  when  sweet  violets  sicken, 
Live  withiu  the  sense  they  quicken." 

There  are  touches  which  we  easily  remember  —  of 
softness  or  smoothness,  say  of  satin  or  of  a  smooth  skin, 
or  of  the  prickliness  of  a  brier  or  thorn.  The  child  re- 
tains forever  the  memory  of  a  mother's  kiss.  But  we 
get  our  most  vivid  and  varied  memories  from  the  sense 
of  sight.  We  delight  to  remember  colors,  say  of  a 
flower  or  a  piece  of  dress,  of  the  morning  and  evening 
sky.  We  image  certain  forms,  as  of  the  persons  and 
faces  of  our  friends,  of  noble  trees,  of  well-proportioned 
buildings,  of  mountains.  All  that  is  picturesque,  that  is 
picture-like,  that  is  with  a  well-defined  shape,  as  stee- 
ples, cliffs,  precipices,  leave  a  photograph  of  themselves 
on  our  souls.  The  artist  uses  many  of  these  in  his  paint- 
ings, in  his  portraits,  and  in  his  landscapes.  The  poet 
turns  them  to  all  sorts  of  uses  in  pleasing,  in  exciting 
and  elevating  the  mind. 

This  imaging  power  helps  greatly  to  enliven  our  exists 
ence.  We  call  up  an  incident  of  our  childhood.  We 
remember  the  day  on  which  we  were  first  sent  to  school, 
and  how  we  set  out  from  our  parents'  roof  with  strangely 
mingled  feelings  of  confidence  and  timidity.  As  we 
bring  back  the  scene,  mark  how  everything  appears 
with  a  pictorial  power.  We  have  a  vivid  picture,  it  may 
be,  of  the  road  we  travelled ;   we  see,  as  it  were,  the 


THE  BECALLING   POWER  OR   PHANTASY.  99 

school-house,  within  and  without ;  we  hear  the  master 
addressing  us,  and  the  remarks  which  the  children 
passed  upon  us.  Or,  more  pleasant  still,  we  remember 
a  holiday  trip  in  the  company  of  genial  companions  or 
kind  relatives  to  a  place  interesting  in  itself  or  by  its 
associations  ;  or  the  visit  we  paid  to  the  house  of  a  good 
friend,  who  had  a  thousand  contrivances  to  please  and 
entertain  us.  How  vivid  at  this  moment  the  picture  be- 
fore us  of  the  incidents  of  the  journey  ;  of  the  little  mis- 
fortunes that  befell  us ;  of  the  amusements  provided  for 
us ;  of  the  persons,  the  countenances,  the  smiles,  the 
voices  and  words,  of  those  who  joined  us  in  our  mirth  or 
ministered  to  our  gratification.  We  not  only  recollect 
the  events  :  we,  as  it  were,  perceive  them  before  us  ; 
the  imaging  is  an  essential  element  of  our  remembrance. 
Wordsworth  is  painting  from  the  life  when  he  speaks  of 

"  Those  recollected  hours  that  have  the  charm 
Of  visionary  things ;  those  lovely  forms 
And  sweet  sensations  that  throw  back  our  life. 
And  almost  make  remotest  infancy 
A  visible  scene  on  which  the  sun  is  shining. 

Or' possibly  there  may  be  scenes  which  have  imprinted 
themselves  more  deeply  upon  our  minds,  —  which  have, 
as  it  were,  burned  their  image  into  our  souls.  Let  us 
throw  back  our  mind  upon  the  time  when  death  first 
intruded  into  our  dwelling.  We  remember  ourselves 
standing  by  the  dying  bed  of  a  father,  and  then  we  re- 
call how  a  few  days  after  we  saw  the  corpse  put  into  the 
cufiin  and  then  borne  away  to  the  grave.  How  terribly 
distinct  and  startling  do  these  scenes  stand  before  us  at 
this  instant!  We  see  that  pallid  countenance  looking 
forth  from  the  couch  upon  us ;  we  hear  that  voice  be- 
coming feebler  and  stili  feebler ;  and  then  we  feel  as  if 
we  were  looking  at  that  fixed  form  which  the  counte- 


100        THE  REPRODUCTIVE   OR   REPRESENTATIVE   POWERS. 

nance  took  when  the  spirit  had  fled ;  wo  follow  tlie  long 
funeral  as  it  winds  away  to  the  place  of  the  dead,  and 
we  hear  the  earth  falling  on  the  coffin  as  the  dust  is 
committed  to  its  kindred  dust. 

Secondly^  It  should  be  specially  noticed  that  not  only 
are  we  able  to  represent  these  sensible  scenes :  we  are 
further  able  to  picture  the  thoughts  and  feelings  which 
'passed  through  our  minds  as  we  mingled  in  them.  Not 
only  do  we  remember  the  road  along  which  we  travelled 
and  the  building  which  we  entered  :  we  can  bring  up  the 
feelings  with  which  we  set  out  from  our  parents'  house, 
and  those  with  which  we  passed  into  the  school.  Not 
only  do  we  recollect  the  amusements  which  so  interested 
us,  but  the  feelings  of  interest  with  which  we  engaged 
in  them.  Not  only  do  we  picture  the  chamber  in  which 
a  father  breathed  his  last :  we  can  call  up  the  mingled 
emotions  of  anxiety,  of  hope  or  fear,  with  which  we 
watched  by  his  dying  bed,  and  the  grief  which  over- 
whelmed us  as  we  realized  the  loss  we  had  suffered.  We 
bring  up  the  feelings  which  chased  each  other  as  we  sat 
by  his  corpse,  or  when  we  returned  to  our  home  and  felt 
all  to  be  so  blank  and  melancholy. 

We  can  thus  live  our  mental  experiences  over  again  : 
the  efforts  we  made  to  acquire  a  branch  of  knowledge,  a 
new  language,  or  a  new  science,  and  how  we  found  the 
process  to  be  irksome  or  stimulating ;  what  we  felt  in 
our  failures  or  our  successes,  in  our  fights  and  in  our 
triumphs,  in  our  friendships  and  in  our  enmities,  in  our 
temptations  yielded  to  and  our  temptations  resisted.  As 
we  survey  the  past,  we  can  remember  the  gratitude  we 
felt  on  kindness  shown  us,  the  sorrow  that  overwhelmed 
us  on  the  death  of  a  friend,  the  bitterness  of  the  disap 
pointment  when  our  best  hopes  were  frustrated,  when  one 
we  trusted  betrayed  us,  and  the  pang  that  shot  through 


THE   RECALLING   POWER   OR   PHANTASY.  101 

US  when  we  foimd  that  we  had  committed  an  unworthy 
deed.  We  are  obliged  to  use  metaphorical  language  in 
describing  these  recollections.  We  speak  of  our  being 
able  to  image  or  picture  to  ourselves  the  outward  inci- 
dents and  the  inward  feelings,  and  we  thus  set  forth  an 
important  truth. 

True,  we  cannot  give  these  mental  states  a  sensible 
figure.  Tlie  reason  is  obvious.  They  had  no  visible  or 
tangible  form  when  we  first  experienced  them,  and  the 
memor3%  in  reproducing  them,  will  represent  them  as 
they  first  presented  themselves.  This  circumstance,  I 
may  add  in  passing,  furnishes  an  argument  of  some  little 
force  in  favor  of  the  immateriality  of  the  soul.  In  our 
primary  knowledge  and  in  our  subsequent  i-ecollection  of 
bodies  we  have  a  sensible  image.  But  in  our  conscious- 
ness of  our  mental  states  and  in  our  recalling  them,  we 
do  not,  and  indeed  cannot,  so  represent  them.  We  give 
a  bodily  shape  to  the  school  at  which  we  learned  our 
tasks,  to  the  persons  and  countenances  of  our  early  asso- 
ciates, but  we  cannot  give  a  form  or  local  habitation  to 
our  remembered  cogitations  and  sentiments,  which  live 
in  a  higher  sphere. 

It  is  conceivable  that  the  memory  might  have  been  as 
correct  as  it  is  of  matters  of  fact  without  having  any 
pictorial  power.  In  fact,  the  majority  of  our  memories 
must  be  of  this  character.  It  is  well  it  should  be  so,  for 
otherwise  excitement  would  waste  our  life,  and  keep  us 
from  the  performance  of  many  commonplace  but  impor- 
tant duties.  But  that  is  a  most  benignant  endowment 
whereby  we  can  image  absent  objects  and  past  events, 
lay  them  up  in  "  chambers  of  imagery,"  and  make  them 
pass  as  in  a  panorama  before  us.  We  can  thus  have  a 
series  of  paintings  of  all  the  scenes  in  which  we  have 
mingled,  a  set  of  portraits  of  the  friends  with  whom  we 


102      THE  REPRODUCTIVE   OR  REPRESENTATIVE   POWERS. 

had  sweet  intercourse,  and  we  can  view  them  as  Cowper 
did  his  mother's  portrait :  — 

"rairhful  remembrancer  of  one  so  dear; 
And  while  that  face  renews  my  filial  grief 
Fancy  shall  weave  a  charm  for  my  relief, 
Shall  steep  me  in  Elysiau  reverie. 
A  momentary  dream  that  thou  art  she, 
By  contemplation's  help  not  sought  in  vain, 
I  seem  to  have  lived  my  childhood  o'er  again  — 
To  have  renewed  the  joys  that  once  were  mine. 
Without  the  sin  of  violating  thine. 
And  while  the  wings  of  fancy  still  are  free, 
And  I  can  view  this  mimic  show  of  thee. 
Time  has  but  half  succeeded  in  his  theft  — 
Thyself  removed,  thy  power  to  soothe  me  left." 

This  imaging  power,  as  it  enlivens  the  mind,  also  tends 
to  give  vividness  to  its  productions  in  words  and  writ- 
ings. He  is  an  interesting  companion  who,  having  laid 
up  a  store  of  pictures,  is  ever  bringing  them  out  in  his 
conversation.  Travellers  and  biographers  instruct  us 
best  when  they  are  able  to  give  us  a  word-painting  of 
the  scene  and  of  the  man  or  woman.  History  is  vastly 
more  attractive  when  it  gives  the  event  with  its  concom- 
itants —  say  the  battle  with  the  field  on  which  it  was 
fought.  Our  pictorial  writers  are  generally  the  most 
popular.  In  the  medieeval  ages  they  illuminated  the 
manuscripts  to  attract  and  delight  the  eye.  In  our  day, 
books  in  almost  every  department  of  literature  are  illus- 
trated. This  power  has  a  still  more  important  function. 
Nothing  tends  more  to  degrade  the  mind  and  sink  it  in 
the  mire  than  low  and  sensual  images.  On  the  other 
hand,  images  of  duty,  of  self-sacrifice,  of  courage,  of 
honor,  of  beauty,  of  love,  elevate  and  ennoble  the  soul. 

Some  of  the  phantasms  are  much  more  vivid  than 
others.  They  differ  also  in  the  case  of  different  indi- 
viduals, and  of  the  same  individual  at  different  times  or 


THE  RECALLING  POWER  OR  PHANTASY.  103 

in  different  states  of  bis  body.  It  is  a  curious  question 
what  can  be  the  cause  of  this  difference.  Without  pro- 
fessing to  exhaust  the  subject  we  may  specify  some  cii* 
cumstauces  which  undoubtedly  have  an  influence  on  the 
vividness  of  the  picture. 

1.  There  is  the  original  vividness  of  the  sensation,  de- 
pending primarily  on  the  sensitiveness  of  the  organ,  but 
under  this  also  upon  the  nature  of  the  object  perceived. 
The  senses  evidently  differ  in  this  respect.  The  most 
lively  is  the  sense  of  sight.  The  forms  and  colors  origi- 
nally made  known  by  it  may  come  up  almost  with  the 
distinctness  of  the  realities.  The  mental  representation 
(we  can  scarcely  call  it  picture)  of  sounds  is  often  very 
intense,  especially  in  the  case  of  those  who  have  a  musi- 
cal ear,  but  also  when  the  impression  on  the  ear  is  sti'ong 
or  vehement,  —  made,  for  instance,  by  the  bursting  of  a 
cannon.  Tastes  and  odors  may  also  be  recalled  with 
less  impressiveness,  as  also  touches  and  feelings  in  our 
nerves.  There  are  times  when  our  sensations  of  shapes, 
colors,  and  sounds  are  very  intense,  and  in  these  cases 
they  are  apt  to  be  reproduced  with  greater  vividness. 
There  are  scenes  of  gorgeous  coloring,  there  are  pictur- 
esque figures,  such  as  horrid  precipices  ;  there  are  sounds 
such  as  those  of  a  falling  rock,  of  thunder,  or  of  an  ava- 
lanche, which  we  can  never  forget.  Some  persons  are 
evidently  more  susceptible  of  intense  impressions  than 
others,  and  in  these  cases  the  images  are  apt  to  be  more 
vivid,  and  these  may  be  embodied  in  paintings,  in  stat- 
ues, or  in  word-painting  in  prose  or  poetry. 

2.  The  formation  of  the  image  is  dependent  on  the 
state  of  the  brain.  It  is  believed  that  even  in  our  sense- 
perceptions  there  is  brain  action.  It  seems  to  be  estab- 
lished that  the  third  convolution  of  the  left  side  of  the 
cerebrum  is  the  organ  of  the  symbolic  power,  or  of  Ian- 


104      THE  REPRODUCTIVE  OR  REPRESENTATIVE  POWERS. 

guage.  Some  eminent  men,  such  as  Hitzig  and  Fritsch 
and  Ferrier,  maintain  that  each  sense  has  a  separate 
location  in  the  brain  ;  others  deny  this.  Without  enter- 
ing into  this  discussion,  it  is  allowed  that  brain  action  is 
necessary  to  sense  action.  The  whole  eye  might  be 
perfect,  and  yet  there  is  no  vision  if  there  be  a  lesion  in 
certain  parts  of  the  brain.  Not  only  so,  but  brain  action 
is  required  in  order  to  the  reproduction  of  our  sense- 
perceptions.  Now  it  is  highly  probable  that  the  same 
part  of  the  brain  acting  in  the  perception  is  necessary  in 
order  to  its  reproduction.  When  there  is  a  lesion  of  a 
certain  part  of  the  brain  it  may  not  be  possible  to  form 
an  image  of  the  object.  In  all  cases  the  vividness  of  the 
image  may  depend  on  the  health  and  susceptibility  of  the 
brain  matter. 

It  is  well  known  that  persons  may  lose  certain  of  their 
recollections  while  they  retain  others.  The  defect  seems 
to  arise  from  a  lesion  of  the  brain.  We  have  the  record 
of  persons  losing  the  power  of  picturing  forms,  while 
their  memory  was  good  in  all  other  respects.  We  have 
more  frequent  instances  of  people  losing  their  power  of 
using  languages  or  particular  languages.  This  is  the 
disease  of  aphasia,  arising  from  a  derangement  in  the 
organ  of  language.  There  are  cases  of  persons  losing  a 
portion  of  their  knowledge  for  a  time  and  then  recover- 
ing it ;  perhaps  losing  it  suddenly,  and  recovering  it  as 
suddenly.  In  all  such  cases  it  looks  as  if,  in  acquiring 
the  original  knowledge,  there  is  a  certain  state  of  the 
brain  produced,  say  by  a  certain  disposition  of  the  mole- 
cules, probably  in  the  gray  matter  in  the  periphery  of 
the  brain.  Where  there  is  an  efface ment  or  derange- 
ment of  this  matter  in  the  brain  the  knowledge  cannot 
be  recalled.  Sometimes  the  disorganization  is  only  for 
a  time,  and  when  it  is  cured  the  mental  power  is  ready 
to  act. 


CHAMBERS  OF  IMAGERY.  105 

3.  There  is  the  mental  force  particularly  of  the  atten- 
tion directed  to  the  scenes  as  they  first  passed  before  us. 
Wo  were  interested  iu  them,  we  turned  tliem  round  and 
round,  we  viewed  them  under  various  aspects,  and  hav- 
ing been  so  encouraged  and  fondled,  they  are  apt  to  visit 
us  again  and  again,  and  put  on  their  best  expression. 
The  painter  has  to  study  the  features  of  landscapes  and 
the  countenances  and  attitudes  of  men  and  women  to  give 
us  correct  figures  on  his  canvas.  Under  this  view,  the 
capacity  of  bringing  up  images  is  more  within  our  power 
than  we  might  at  first  imagine. 

SECTION   II. 

CHAMBERS   OF  IMAGERY. 

Following  the  plan  of  Professor  Galton  in  his  **  Questions  upon 
the  Visualizing  and  Allied  Faculties,"  Professor  Osborne  and  my- 
self issued  certain  queries  to  the  students  of  Princeton  and  Vassar 
(Female)  Colleges.  The  answers  are  very  curious,  and  I  may  de- 
tail some  of  them. 

The  Phantasy  is  exercised  most  vividly  in  regard  to  the  sense  of 
sight.     The  following  are  the  answers  of  various  persons  :  — 

(1)  I  can  recall  the  features  of  some  exceedingly  well-known  per- 
sons, as  of  my  own  family ;  (2)  It  is  hard  for  me  to  image  faces 
with  great  distinctness  of  detail ;  (3)  I  can  recall  comparative 
strangers  with  more  ease  than  near  relatives  ;  (4)  I  can  recall  the 
features  of  many  persons,  of  almost  any  one,  better  than  of  my 
friends  and  relatives  ;  (5)  I  can  recall  the  features  of  all  whom  I 
have  ever  known  intimately,  except  my  mother  ;  (6)  I  frequently 
recall  faces  with  vividness,  hut  not  at  ivill ;  (7)  I  can  recall  the  fea- 
tures of  males  better  than  of  females ;  (8)  I  can  only  recall  the  fea- 
tures of  those  who  have  been  lately  seen  ;  (9)  There  are  a  few  per- 
sons very  well  known  to  me  whose  features  I  absolutely  cannot 
recall,  and  it  is  very  annoying  ;  (10)  I  can  recall  readily  persons, 
friends,  and  relations  ;  (11)  I  can  recall  all  quite  distinctly,  but 
those  with  whom  I  am  associating  every  day  with  more  distinctness 
than  others,  as  my  classmates  at  college  better  than  my  friends  at 
home. 


106      THE  REPRODUCTIVE   OR   REPRESENTATIVE   POWERS. 

The  images  formed  in  childhood  are  with  most  persons  clearer, 
brighter,  and  more  numerous  than  those  of  later  years.  Among 
twenty-eight  students  three  believe  that  their  powers  of  imagery 
have  improved,  thirteen  say  that  they  have  not  varied,  twelve  say 
that  they  have  diminished.  This  is  due  in  many  cases  to  disuse, 
for  there  can  be  no  doubt  that  the  elaborate  imagery  of  some  older 
minds  is  far  more  wonderful  than  anything  found  among  children. 
Children's  images,  apart  from  the  natural  strength  of  their  phantasy, 
are  vivid  because  they  see  form,  color,  and  outline  dissociated  from 
any  distracting  ideas  which  would  enter  the  mind  of  an  adult.  A 
child  looks  at  a  pony,  engrossed  with  its  external  characters,  rough 
coat,  long  mane,  and  so  on,  without  thought  of  price,  age,  or  disposi- 
tion. This  concentration  and  simplicity  of  the  mental  concept  affects 
the  memory  as  sharp  focussing  affects  a  sensitive  jtlate.  The  ear- 
liest images  recalled  from  childhood  are  amusingly  trifling  ;  they  are 
often  of  objects  which  touched  the  childish  vanity,  such  as  the  first 
long  trousers  or  new  blue  dress,  the  first  day  at  school. 

The  following  experience  of  a  young  man,  now  a  physician  (Dr. 
Loyd),  is  full  of  instruction:  — 

"  A  year  or  two  ago  I  was  suffering  from  near-sightedness  and 
seeing  everything  double.  I  had  an  operation  performed  by  Dr.  Ag- 
new,  which,  with  the  use  of  glasses,  restored  my  eyesight  and  cor- 
rected the  imperfect  coordination.  If  I  attempt  to  recall  scenes  that 
I  saw  while  my  eyes  were  out  of  order,  I  invariably  see  them  as  they 
appeared  during  that  time,  although  I  may  have  seen  them  many 
times  since  the  operation.  For  instance,  in  the  case  of  the  minister 
in  the  pulpit  at  home,  I  see  two  images  of  him,  no  matter  how  much 
I  may  try  to  get  rid  of  one  of  them.  My  recollections  of  the  examina- 
tion hall  and  of  the  examiner,  upon  entrance  to  college,  are  affected 
in  the  same  way,  although  I  have  since  attended  several  courses  of 
lectures -in  that  room.  When  I  think  of  the  examiner,  his  several 
positions  are  all  very  clear,  but  all  double.  My  recollection  of  the 
office  in  which  the  operation  was  performed  is  also  of  everything  as 
double,  although  I  saw  it  only  twice  before  the  restoration  of  my 
sight,  and  many  times  after.  The  objects  which  I  have  seen  since 
the  operation  are  always  single  when  recalled." 

But  we  may  also  have  phantasms  of  touch,  taste,  sound,  and  smell. 
Only  a  few  persons  can  recall  odors  ;  one  writer  asserts,  on  the  other 
hand,  that  odors  are  the  most  vivid  of  all  his  recalled  sensations. 
Touches  axe  the  next  rarest,  then  sound,  then  color,  while  form  is 


IDEAS  SINGULAR  AND   CONCRETE.  107 

most  frequently  recalled.  Of  twenty-five  writers,  all  say  they  can 
recall  form  in  some  degree,  and  two  thirds  of  these  recall  form  more 
distinctly  than  anything  else  that  comes  to  the  senses.  Colors,  ac- 
cording to  this  series  of  replies,  can  be  fairly  recalled  by  about  two 
persons  out  of  three,  but  not  so  vividly  as  forms.  With  only  one 
fourth  the  number  was  the  recalling  of  form  and  color  equal  ;  with 
one  tenth  was  the  recalling  of  form,  color,  and  sounds  equal.  Those 
who  recalled  sounds  could  in  few  instances  recall  colors  readily,  and 
in  many  cases  there  was  a  vivid  recollection  of  color  with  a  dim  idea 
of  form,  or  vice  versa.  Nineteen  could  recall  form  best,  eleven  could 
recall  colors  best,  or  as  well  as  forms,  nine  for  sounds,  three  for 
touches,  and  two  for  odors.  These  proportions  probably  indicate 
but  roughly  those  which  would  be  obtained  from  a  larger  number  of 
persons.  Among  individuals  they  partly  attest  the  relative  inborn 
acuteness  of  the  various  senses,  as  well  as  individual  preferences  for 
certain  qualities  of  objects  ;  objects  of  distaste  are  naturally  sup- 
pressed from  our  imagery  as  far  as  we  can  control  it ;  throughout  all 
is  the  principle  so  well  brought  out  by  Mr.  Galton  that  our  powers  of 
reviving  the  impressions  of  different  senses  are  very  uneven. 

We  may  likewise  have  phantasms  of  purely  psychical  or  mental 
Btates,  such  as  joy,  fear,  hope,  reasoning,  resolution  ;  but  these  have 
not  been  so  carefully  observed,  though  they  are,  if  possible,  of  more 
importance. 

SECTION  III. 

IDEAS   SINGULAR  AND  CONCRETE. 

The  word  "  idea  "  is  used  very  loosely  and  ambigu- 
ously. But  it  may  have  a  definite  meaning.  Literally 
signifying  image,  it  may  stand  for  all  those  operations 
in  which  there  is  a  reproduction  of  past  experiences. 
When  there  is  an  object  before  me,  say  a  mountain,  and 
I  look  upon  it,  I  would  not  say  that  I  have  an  idea  of 
it,  but  that  I  know  it.  In  like  manner,  when  I  am  con- 
scious of  myself  in  a  particular  state,  say  in  pain,  it  is 
not  an  adequate  expression  of  the  fact  to  say  that  I  have 
an  idea  of  the  pain  ;  we  have  a  conscious  knowledge  of 
it.     But  when  the  mountain  and  the  painful  affection 


108      THE  REPRODUCTIVE   OR   REPRESENTATIVE   POWERS. 

are  recalled  wc  may  then  say  that  we  have  an  idea  of 
them.  That  which  is  brought  up  by  the  phantasy  may 
always  be  called  an  idea.  So  far  as  it  is  thus  raised  it  is 
always  like  the  original  perceptions  of  sense  and  con- 
sciousness, singular  and  concrete,  and  these  may  be 
called  phantasms.  Out  of  the  singular  and  concrete 
cognitions  there  may  be  formed  general  and  abstract  no- 
tions, and  these  may  be  called  conceptions  or  concepts. 
(See  iyifra,  under  Comparison.)  Both  of  these  may  be 
called  "ideas,"  according  to  the  usage  of  the  English 
tongue. 

In  an  earlier  part  of  this  work  I  have  critically  exam- 
ined "  the  ideal  theory."  In  sense-perception  the  object 
is  presented  and  is  known  directly.  When  we  look  at  a 
tree  I  would  not  say  with  Locke  that  we  have  an  idea  of 
it,  but  that  we  have  a  knowledge  of  it.  But  when  the 
tree  is  not  present  and  we  recall  it,  then  it  is  proper  to 
say  that  we  have  an  idea  of  it.  We  thus  see  what  is  the 
proper  order  of  our  mental  operations,  not  first  the 
image  and  then  the  substance,  but  first  the  substance 
and  then  the  image.  In  this  way  everything  is  put  in 
its  proper  place.  There  are  metaphysicians  who  reverse 
this  order,  and  put  that  which  is  first  last,  and  that 
which  is  last  first,  and  thus  derange  everything,  make  it 
impossible  to  distinguish  philosophically  between  the 
ideas  and  the  realities,  and  give  to  things  a  shadowy 
existence.  We  avoid  this  by  making  ideas  the  reflection 
of  things. 


CHAPTER    III. 

THE  ASSOCIATION   OF  IDEAS. 

To  the  superficial  observer  it  might  seem  as  if  these 
ever-changing  thoughts  and  feelings  of  ours  follow  each 
other  at  random.  In  certain  of  our  moods  they  lenp 
from  topic  to  topic,  certainly  with  extraordinary  rapid- 
ity, and  seemingly  without  any  order  or  connection. 
We  would  direct  them  exclusively  to  some  all-impor- 
tant matter,  and  suddenly  they  are  among  objects 
widely  removed  and  altogether  irrelevant.  In  the  midst 
of  business  they  set  off  in  pursuit  of  pleasure  :  when  we 
would  compose  our  minds  for  devotion,  we  find,  before 
we  are  aware,  that  they  are  carrying  us  wandering  over 
the  mountains  of  vanity  ;  while  it  will  sometimes  hap- 
pen that,  in  our  moments  of  frivolity  and  folly,  the  most 
soleinn  thoughts  will  present  themselves  to  sober  or  to 
awe  us.  Our  experience  thus  seems,  at  least  at  first 
sight,  to  show  that  our  ideas  flit,  at  their  pleasure,  from 
gay  to  grave  and  from  grave  to  gay  ;  from  home  to  the 
ends  of  the  earth,  and  from  the  ends  of  the  earth  back 
to  home  ;  from  fear  to  hope,  and  from  elevation  down 
to  flatness  ;  from  earth  to  heaven,  and,  alas,  from  heaven 
to  earth.  But  while  this  may  be  our  first  impression,  it 
will  be  found,  if  we  inquire  more  carefully,  that  just  as 
law  rules  everywhere  in  the  world  of  matter  over  even 
the  most  unruly  agents,  —  over  the  boiling  waves,  the 
leaping  streams,  the  fickle  winds,  —  so  it  also  reigns, 


110  THE   ASSOCIATION  OF  IDEAS. 

with  all  its  order  and  beneficence,  in  this  kingdom  of 
mind  ;  and  links,  often  by  invisible  ties,  our  thoughts 
and  emotions  one  to  another. 

We  find  our  ideas  pursuing  a  course.  (1.)  When  we 
watch  and  follow  them  we  find  them  connected  one  with 
another.  Some  one  refers  to  the  great  civil  war  in 
America,  and  immediately  its  scenes  come  before  us  ; 
the  circumstances  which  led  to  it,  the  existence  of  slav- 
ery, the  feelings  of  the  North  and  of  the  South,  the  bat- 
tles and  their  results  ;  the  terrible  suiferings,  and  the 
mistakes  committed,  the  conduct  of  the  statesmen  and 
the .  generals,  the  part  taken  by  Great  Britain  and 
France ;  the  sentiments  of  these  countries  about  Amer- 
ica, the  effect  which  this  had  on  America,  the  issue  of 
the  war  and  the  condition  in  which  it  left  the  United 
States.  Our  thoughts  have  gone  over  a  considerably 
wide  course,  over  a  number  of  years,  and  two  wide  con- 
tinents, but  they  have  not  taken  a  violent  leap  ;  they 
have  trod  the  whole  way  step  by  step. 

(2.)  We  can  often  trace  tiiem  backward,  wlien  we  find 
the  same  consecutiveness.  Often,  indeed,  we  may  not  be 
able  to  discover  all  the  links,  as  some  of  them  may  be 
forgotten  in  the  rapidity  of  their  occurrence.  Ordinary 
conversation  often  seems  very  desultory,  yet  we  can  at 
times  discover  the  thread  on  which  are  strung  topics  the 
most  remote  and  discordant.  Thus  Hobbe«  of  Malmes- 
bury  tells  of  his  being  in  a  company  in  which  the  con- 
versation turned  on  the  civil  wars  in  the  times  of  the 
Commonwealth,  when  a  person  asked  abruptly,  "  What 
is  the  value  of  a  Roman  denarius  ?  "  "  On  a  little  reflec- 
tion," says  Hobbes,  "  I  was  able  to  trace  the  train  of 
thought  which  suggested  the  question,  for  the  original 
subject  of  discourse  naturally  introduced  the  history  of 
the  king  and  the  treachery  of  those  who  surrendered  his 


THE  ASSOCIATION   OF  IDEAS.  Ill 

person  to  his  enemies  ;  this  again  introduced  the  history 
of  Judas  Iscariot  and  the  sum  of  money  which  he  re- 
ceived for  his  reward."  I  remember  trying  to  make  a 
company  merry  by  the  narrative  of  a  fishing  excursion 
which  had  been  distinguished  by  some  laughable  mis- 
fortunes,—  of  boastings  ending  in  humiliations,  and  of 
duckings  without  drowning,  —  when,  to  my  surprise,  a 
lady  burst  into  tears :  it  turned  out  that  she  had  lost 
a  dear  boy,  who  had  fallen  into  a  deep  pool  when  fishing. 
In  such  cases  we  can  detect  the  train  of  thought.  In 
others  we  may  not  be  able  to  follow  the  path,  as  no 
traces  have  been  left  behind  in  the  memory  ;  yet  even 
in  such  we  are  certain  that  there  has  been  a  continuous 
course,  just  as  we  are  sure  that  the  bullet,  though  we 
have  not  seen  it,  has  passed  through  the  whole  interme- 
diate space  between  the  rifle  and  the  target ;  and  that 
the  lightning,  which  cometh  out  of  the  east  and  shineth 
even  unto  the  west,  has  passed  through  every  point  be- 
tween. 

"  Who  shall  say, 
Whence  are  those  thoughts,  and  whither  tends  their  wayj 
The  sudden  images  of  vanished  things 
That  o'er  the  spirit  flash,  we  know  not  why. 
Tones  from  some  broken  harp's  deserted  strings  — 
Warm  sunset  hues  of  summers  long  gone  by  — 
A  rippling  wave  —  the  dashing  of  an  oar  — 
A  flower-scent  floating  past  our  parent's  door  — 
A  word  — scarce  no'ed  in  its  hour  percliance. 
Yet  back  returning  witli  a  plaintive  tone  — 
A  smile  — a  sunny  or  a  mournful  glance 
Full  of  sweet  meanings,  now  from  this  world  flown ; 
Are  not  these  mysteries,  when  to  life  they  start, 
And  press  vain  tears  in  gushes  from  the  heart  1 " 

I  am  to  endeavor  to  say  whence  are  these  thoughts. 
In  doing  so  I  find  it  expedient,  first,  to  announce  and 
illustrate  the  laws  which  are  obvious  and  which  are  gen- 


112  THE   ASSOCIATION   OF   IDEAS. 

erally  acknowledged,  and  then  to  discuss  some  more  sub- 
tle and  disputed  points.  The  laws  of  association  are  of 
two  sorts,  Primary  and  Secondary. 

SECTION    I. 

PRIMARY   LAWS. 

These  regulate  the  succession  of  all  our  spontaneous 
ideas ;  not,  however,  of  all  our  mental  states,  some  of 
which,  such  as  our  sensations  and  perceptions,  are  called. 
up  by  external  circumstances.  The  laws  may  be  ar- 
ranged under  two  heads,  Contiguity  and  Correlation. 

I.  Contiguity.  When  two  or  more  ideas  have  been  in 
the  mind  together,  on  one  coming  up  it  is  apt  to  be  fol- 
lowed hy  the  other  or  others.  The  law  takes  two  forms, 
the  one  that  of  Succession,  when  the  ideas  have  followed 
each  other ;  the  other  that  of  Coexistence,  when  they 
have  been  together. 

(1.)  The  Law  op  Succession.  When  two  ideas 
have  immediately  succeeded  each  other,  on  one  of  them 
coming  up  there  is  a  tendency  in  the  other  to  follow. 
This  is  the  Law  of  Repetition.  The  same  follows  tlie 
same.  Our  thoughts  have  gone  once,  twice,  or  several 
times  in  a  train,  —  A,  B,  C,  D,  E  ;  one  of  them,  A,  is 
started,  and  off  goes  the  mind  after  B,  C,  D,  E. 

"  John  Gilpin  wns  a  citizen, 
Of  credit  and  renown." 

The  child  goes  over  this  once,  twice,  thrice,  till  the  words 
have  been  associated  according  to  the  law  of  repetition ; 
and  now  you  have  only  to  start  "  John  Gilpin,"  and 
away  he  slides  —  as  on  an  icy  track  which  he  has  made  on 
the  snow,  "  was  a  citizen  of  credit  and  renown."  Thus 
it  is,  that  things  having  been  associated  once,  twice,  or 
often  in  our  minds,  the  one  is  apt  to  recall  the  other.     It 


PRIMARY   LAWS.  113 

is  thus  we  have  joined  China  and  tea  ;  Japan  and  lack- 
ering ;  Cornwall  and  tin  ;  Manchester  and  cotton  ;  Belfast 
and  linen  ;  Switzerland  with  high  mountains   and  gla- 
ciers ;  the  Highlands  of  Scotland  with  hills,  brown  heath, 
rugged  rocks,  and  leaping  streams ;  Ireland  with  green 
grass  and  foliage  ;  ancient  Athens  with  literature ;  an- 
cient Rome  with  conquest.    Thus  it  is,  that  having  often 
seen  them  together,  the  black  coat  becomes  associated 
with   the  clergyman,   the  red  coat   with  tlie  soldier  in 
England,  and  the  blue  coat  with  the  soldier  in  America. 
Thus   it   is  that   the  sign   becomes  associated  with  the 
thing  signified ;    the  rose  with   England,  the  shamrock 
with  Ireland,  and  the  thistle  with  Scotland.     Thus  it  is, 
and  as  far  more  important,  that  when  we  have  become 
familiar  with  the  meaning  of  a  word,  it  at  once,  and 
without  an  effort,  calls  up  the  signification  ;  and  in  an 
hour  we  comprehend  all  that  is  in  the  lecture  with,  per- 
haps, its  five  thousand  words.     Thus   it  is   that  places 
become  associated  with  what  has  been  experienced  at 
them.     We  see  this  law  at  work  even  among  the  lower 
animals.     If   a  horse  has   had  a  fright  at  a  particular 
place  it  will  begin  to  tremble  as  it  comes  to  the  locality. 
The  widow,  whose  husband  was  killed  at  a  particular 
turn  of    the  road,  cannot    pass  it  without  being  over- 
whelmed with  OTief.     The  mother  ever  remembers  her 
boy,  now,  perhaps,    grown    into  a  man,    as    she    passes 
the  place  where  she  parted  with  him,  as  he  set  out  to 
face  the  hard  struggle  of  life  in   some  distant  city  or 
foreign  land.     Thus  it  is  that  certain  localities  suggest 
great   historical   events.      Marathon    and    Bannockburn 
and  Waterloo  call   up  nations  delivered  from  tyranny  j 
and  Bethlehem    and    Nazareth    and  Jerusalem   call   up 
freedom  achieved  by  a  mighty  deliverer  for    the    sin- 
enslaved  race  of  mankind. 
8 


114  THE  ASSOCIATION   OF   IDEAS. 

Taking  this  key  with  us  we  can  often  explain  certain 
peculiarities  of  character  which  may  seem  very  odd.  The 
child  screams  when  he  hears  of  his  being  about  to  re- 
ceive a  visit  from  the  surgeon,  who  had  to  perform  a 
painful  operation  on  him.  That  boy  will  not  taste  the 
jelly  piece  offered  him,  because  the  jelly  is  associated 
with  the  nausea  of  the  drug  which  was  administered  in 
it.  An  excellent  lady  of  my  acquaintance  was  nearly 
killed  by  a  bullock  when  a  child,  and  ever  since  she  runs 
from  the  most  harmless  cow  as  if  it  were  a  lion.  Thus 
it  is  that  certain  persons  have  been  made  to  acquire  a 
horrid  shrinking  from  certain  objects,  such  as  mice  or 
rats,  as  frogs  or  toads,  as  cats  or  dogs,  or  from  darkness, 
which  is  associated  with  ghosts.  Beginning  with  these 
simpler  instances,  we  can  now  explain  more  complex 
and  recondite  cases  ;  as  how  people  become  prejudiced 
against  certain  persons  ;  these  persons  have  inflicted  on 
them  some  real,  or  quite  as  possible,  some  imaginary 
injury ;  or  against  certain  scenes,  because  there  they 
have  suffered  a  humiliation.  I  know  a  man  who  sup- 
poses that  I  kept  him  out  of  an  office  which  he  very 
much  coveted,  and  ever  since,  when  he  is  in  danger  of 
meeting  me,  he  sets  off  the  nearest  by-way  that  may  ena- 
ble him  to  escape.  Those  who  have  injured  any  one  in 
his  property  or  good  name  are  apt  ever  after  to  shrink 
from  his  company  ;  for  his  presence  reminds  them  of 
their  sin,  which  they  would  rather  keep  out  of  sight.  I 
knew  a  young  man  who  made  a  fool  of  himself,  and  was 
laughed  at,  the  first  night  he  entered  a  debating  club, 
and  never  after  could  he  be  made  to  face  such  a  meet- 
ing, which  he  always  looked  upon  as  an  array  of  brist- 
ling spears  —  the  tongue  of  every  member  being  ready 
to  enter  into  his  heart.  Young  persons  are  to  be  on 
their  guard  against  falling  under  the  power  of  such  un- 


PRIMARY   LAWS.  115 

reasonable  or  sinful  associations.  When  we  are  in  dan- 
ger of  being  subjected  to  them,  we  should  hasten  to 
deliver  ourselves  from  the  thraldom  by  connecting  the 
objects  with  other  and  more  pleasing  remembrances.  I 
know  a  boy  who  in  early  life  got  a  fright  at  dogs,  and  it 
was  only  by  his  being  led  to  mingle  for  long  with  very 
gentle  animals,  that  he  was  cured  of  his  terror ;  that  is, 
dogs  now  became  associated  in  his  mind  with  harmless- 
ness  and  playfulness.  I  am  acquainted  with  a  physician, 
who,  feeling  how  injurious  it  is  to  children  to  be  in 
terror  of  their  doctor,  contrives  to  amuse  his  juvenile 
patients  till  he  becomes  a  favorite.  It  is  thus  we  should 
endeavor  to  overcome  our  antipathies  towards  all  of 
whom  we  ax'e  jealous  ;  let  us  think  of  them  under  the 
more  favorable  aspects  of  their  character,  or,  if  we  can- 
not but  know  and  abhor  their  bad  qualities,  let  us,  at 
least,  ever  remember  that  we  ourselves  are  also  sinners. 
It  is  thus  we  should  contend  against  every  sinful  preju- 
dice; against  every  prejudice,  indeed,  except  the  preju- 
dice against  sin,  whiih  we  should  certainly  ever  associ- 
ate with  loathing  and  detestation. 

But  it  is  of  more  moment  to  remark,  that  it  is  this 
law  that  mainly  gives  its  strength  to  Habit.  Let  us 
glance  for  a  little  at  habit  and  its  power  for  good  and 
for  evil.  Habit,  as  eveiy  one  knows,  is  characterized  by 
two  marked  features. 

(a.)  There  is  a  tendency  to  repeat  the  acts  which  have 
often  been  done.  Certain  mental  states,  ideas,  feelings, 
and  resolutions  have  followed  each  other  in  a  certain 
order,  once,  twice,  ten  times,  or  a  hundred  times ;  and 
now,  on  any  one  of  these  coming  up,  the  others  will  in- 
cline to  follow  —  quite  as  naturally  as  the  stone  falls  to 
the  ground  if  unsupported,  or  as  water,  bursting  from 
its  fountain,  will  run  in  the  channel  formed  for  it.     You 


116  THE  ASSOCIATION  OF  IDEAS. 

wonder  at  the  drunkard  become  so  infatuated,  but  the 
grieving,  the  downcast  mother,  or  the  disheartened  wife, 
can  tell  you  of  a  time  —  and  a  sigh  heaves  her  bosom  as 
she  speaks  of  it  —  when  the  now  outcast  and  degraded 
one  was  loved  and  respected,  and  returned  with  regular- 
ity to  quiet  and  domestic  peace  in  the  bosom  of  the  fam- 
ily. But,  alas,  he  would  not  believe  the  warnings  of  a 
parent ;  he  did  not  attend  to  the  meek  unobtrusive  rec- 
ommendations of  a  wife  or  sister ;  he  despised  the  com- 
mands of  the  living  God ;  and,  seeking  for  happiness 
where  it  has  never  been  found,  he  spurned  at  those  who 
told  him  that  the  habit  was  fixing  its  roots,  till  nov/  he 
has  become  the  scorn  and  jest  of  the  thoughtless,  and 
the  object  of  pity  to  the  wise  and  good  :  talking  of  his 
kindness  of  heart  while  his  friends  and  family  are  pining 
in  poverty  ;  boasting  to  his  companions,  in  the  midst  of 
his  brutal  mirth,  of  his  strength  of  mind,  and  yet  unable 
to  resist  the  least  temptation.  What  we  see  in  so  marked 
a  manner  in  drunkenness  has  equal  place,  though  it  may 
not  be  so  striking,  in  the  formation  of  evei-y  other  habit ; 
as  of  indolence,  which  shrinks  from  everj^  exertion ;  and 
of  avarice  and  worldly-mindedness,  which  keep  us  ever 
toiling  among  the  clay  of  this  earth ;  and  licentiousness, 
which  wades  through  filth  till  it  sinks  hopelessly  into 
the  mire  of  pollution  :  the  man  is  driven  on  as  by  a 
terrible  wind  behind  moving  to  fill  up  a  vacuum;  as  by  a 
tide  with  its  wave  upon  wave  pursuing  each  other,  under 
an  attracting  power  which  will  not  let  go  its  grasp.  In 
all  cases  we  see  how  difiicult  it  is  for  those  who  have 
been  accustomed  to  do  evil  to  learn  to  do  well ;  at  times 
almost  as  impossible  as  for  a  man,  who  has  thrown  him- 
self from  a  pinnacle,  to  rise  up  when  he  is  half  way 
down  ;  or  for  one  who  has  committed  himself  to  the 
stream  above  Niagara  to  stop  when  he  is  at  the  very 
brink. 


PRIMARY  LAWS.  117 

And  let  no  man  try  to  excuse  his  criminality  on  the 
ground  that  the  acts  are  now  beyond  his  will.  He 
should  resist  the  wave  till  it  has  expended  itself:  he 
should  seek  a  more  favorable  wind  to  drive  him  along. 
He  is  even  now  to  blame  for  not  resisting  the  evil  and 
not  seeking  divine  aid  to  help  him  out  of  the  pit ;  and 
he  is  chiefly  and  above  all  to  bUime  for  the  habit,  which 
is  his  formation  throughout.  For  it  was  by  repeated 
acts  —  by  repeated  voluntary  acts  —  that  the  man  wore 
the  ruts  and  deepened  the  ruts,  out  of  which  it  is  now 
so  difficult  to  move  him.  It  was  the  glass  of  whiskey  or 
brandy  from  day  to  day,  the  intoxicating  drinks  from 
week  to  week,  at  the  dinner  or  evening  party,  —  it  was 
this  that  formed  the  addictedness  to  intemperance.  In 
these  processes  there  was  criminality  at  every  step ;  and 
all  that  ensues  —  this  slavery  and  these  chains  —  is  a 
judicial  infliction  for  the  evil  that  has  been  done  :  the 
punishment  here,  as  in  hell,  adding  to  the  greatness  and 
virulence  of  the  wickednfiss.  In  most  cases,  indeed,  the 
man  did  not  see  the  consequences,  but  it  is  because  he 
shut  his  eyes  to  them.  He  would  do  the  deed  only  this 
one  time,  and  then  he  would  stop.  But  the  temptation 
which  swayed  him  the  first  time  presents  itself  anew, 
and  once  more  is  yielded  to.  Having  crossed  the  line 
which  separates  vice  from  virtue,  he  thinks  that  a  few 
more  transgressions  may  not  much  aggravate  the  offence ; 
he  therefore  goes  a  little  farther,  still  cherishing  the 
idea  that  he  may  return  at  any  time.  At  length  some 
rash  deed  of  excess,  or  unexpected  exposure,  shows  him 
that  it  is  time  to  draw  back ;  and  then  it  is  that  he  feels 
how  ditticult  the  retreat.  It  was  easy  to  slide  into  the 
net,  but  what  obstacles  catch  him  as  ho  would  draw 
back.  His  past  motion  has  created  a  momentum  which 
impels  him  farther,  and  ever  on  towards  the  gulf.     "  Be 


118  THE  ASSOCIATION   OF  IDEAS. 

not  deceived,  God  is  not  mocked  ;  for  whatsoever  a  man 
soweth  that  shall  he  also  reap."  He  has  sown  to  the  flesh, 
and  of  the  flesh  he  now  reaps  corruption.  He  has  sown 
to  the  wind,  and  the  whirlwind  rises  to  toss  him  along  as 
by  an  irresistible  power.  He  has  set  the  stone  a-rolling, 
and  he  has  to  answer  for  the  injury  it  may  do  as  it  de- 
scends. He  has  loosed  the  wagon,  and  let  it  go  down 
the  inclined  plane,  and  he  is  responsible  for  all  the  havoc 
it  may  work  as  it  dashes  on  with  ever  accelerated  speed. 
There  are  affecting  cases,  in  which  the  man  is  conscious 
of  his  misery  as  he  sinks  —  like  a  traveller  lost  in  the 
Alps  —  down  the  snowy  descent  into  the  awful  gulf. 
Take  the  following  confession  of  a  man  of  genius,  a 
poet  and  a  philosopher,  at  the  time  when  he  had  become 
the  slave  of  opium,  taken  in  the  first  instance  to  relieve 
a  bodily  disease.  "  Conceive,"  says  Coleridge,  "  a  poor 
miserable  wretch,  who  for  many  years  had  been  attempt- 
ing to  beat  off  pain  by  a  constant  recurrence  to  the  vice 
which  reproduces  it.  Conceive  a  spirit  in  hell  tracing 
out  for  others  the  road  to  that  heaven  from  which  his 
vices  exclude  him.  In  short,  conceive  whatever  is  most 
wretched,  helpless,  and  hopeless,  and  you  will  form  as 
tolerable  a  notion  of  my  state  as  it  is  possible  for  a  good 
man  to  have.  I  used  to  think  the  text  in  James,  that 
he  who  offended  in  one  point  offends  in  all,  very  harsh ; 
but  now  I  feel  the  tremendous,  the  awful  truth  of  it. 
For  the  one  sin  of  opium,  what  crimes  have  I  not  made 
myself  guilty  of.  Ingratitude  to  my  Maker  and  to  my 
benefactors,  and  unnatural  cruelty  to  my  poor  children  ; 
nay,  too  often  actual  falsehood.  After  my  death  I  ear- 
nestly entreat  that  a  full  and  unqualified  narration  of  my 
wretchedness,  and  of  its  guilty  cause,  may  be  made  pub- 
lic, that  at  least  some  little  good  may  be  effected  by  the 
direful  example." 


PRIMARY    LAWS.  119 

(b.)  Habit  gives  a  facility  in  doing  acts  which  have 
often  been  performed.  This  peculiarity  is  derived  from 
that  just  considered.  It  is  the  tendency  that  gives  the 
facility  —  the  acquii'ed  momentum  that  gives  the  veloc- 
ity. At  first  the  work  could  be  done  only  by  an  effort 
—  only  by  a  special  act  of  the  will  setting  itself  to  de- 
vise means  and  avoid  obstacles.  Now,  the  process  once 
begun  goes  on  of  itself.  As  a  consequence,  that  which 
may  at  first  have  been  irksome,  because  laborious,  now 
becomes  pleasant,  because  easy,  —  and  now  natural,  that 
is,  according  to  a  natural  law. 

Under  the  other  aspect  of  habit,  we  were  led  to  view 
its  evil  results.  Now  we  are  rather  invited  to  contem- 
plate its  beneficent  effects  ;  and  surely  the  law  of  habit, 
like  every  other  part  of  our  constitution,  was  appointed 
for  good  by  our  Maker.  True,  it  is  found  that  when  we 
abuse  this  law  it  has  within  itself,  and  evidently  pro- 
vided for  this  end,  the  means  of  inflicting  a  terrible  judi- 
cial punishment.  But  certainly  tbe  law  is  good  to  them 
that  use  it  lawfully.  We  have  forgotten  a  great  deal  of 
our  childish  experiences,  yet  we  remember  so  much,  and 
we  see  enough  to  convince  us  that  that  little  boy  has 
his  trials  at  every  stage  as  he  learns  to  read :  —  as  first 
he  masters  the  letters,  one  by  one ;  then  the  words, 
word  after  word ;  and  then  is  able,  out  of  these  black 
strokes,  to  gather  a  history,  or  a  science,  or  a  doctrine 
regarding  God  and  Christ,  and  the  soul,  and  the  world 
to  come.  And  yet  how  easy  do  we  now  find  all  this 
as  in  a  few  minutes  we  read  a  whole  page,  with  perhaps 
its  1,500  letters  ?  I  mention  this  for  the  encouragement 
of  those  who  are  still  carrying  on  their  education.  For 
our  efforts  to  improve  our  minds  should  not  cease  with 
our  childhood.  We  should  be  scholars  all  our  days  on 
earth  ;  and  until  we  shall  reach  the  kingdom  of  heavea, 


120  THE  ASSOCIATION   OF   IDEAS. 

where  I  suppose  we  shall  also  be  scholars  sitting  at  the 
feet  of  the  Great  Teacher.  I  recommend  that  every 
young  man  should,  at  every  particular  time,  be  ambi- 
tiously and  resolutely  engaged  at  his  leisure  hours  in 
mastering  some  new  branch  of  knowledge,  secular  or 
sacred.  Let  one  propose  to  himself  to  acquire  a  new 
language,  say  German  or  French  ;  another  to  master  a 
science,  say  chemistry  or  natural  history  ;  a  third  to  be- 
come thoroughly  familiar  with  some  department  of  civil 
history  ;  while  others,  or  the  same,  would  make  them- 
selves conversant  with  Bible  history,  or  of  the  history 
of  the  Chuich  of  Christ  in  the  early  ages,  or  of  the  Ref- 
ormation struggle,  with  its  instructive  lessons  and  thrill- 
ing incidents  of  suffering  and  martyrdom  ;  or  they  would 
master  the  system  of  Christian  theology,  or  the  plan  and 
reasoning  of  the  Epistle  to  the  Romans.  In  prosecuting 
any  one  of  these  tasks  they  will  find  difficulties  ;  but  let 
me  assure  them,  for  their  encouragement,  that  these  will 
be  felt  only  at  the  beginning,  and  will  disappear  and  be 
forgotten,  like  the  difficulties  they  had  years  ago  in 
learning  the  alphabet.  And  these  difficulties  being  over- 
come, they  will  find  their  minds  braced  and  strengthened 
by  the  very  effort  made  and  the  victory  gained.  Of  all 
attainments  youthful  habits  of  a  useful  kind  are  the 
Boost  valuable  —  more  valuable  than  even  all  the  knowl- 
edge acquired  in  forming  them.  And  youth  is  the  spe- 
cial time  for  acquiring  habits  ;  habits  of  industry  and 
application ;  habits  of  manliness  and  independence  ;  hab- 
its of  activity  ;  habits  of  benevolence  and  self-sacrifice  ; 
habits  of  reading  ;  habits  of  rigid  thought ;  habits  of 
devotion.  I  have  been  uttering  a  warning  against  the 
formation  of  evil  habits ;  but  no  one  will  be  able  to  pre- 
vent bad  habits  in  any  other  way  than  by  cultivating 
good  ones.    You  will  not  be  able  to  keep  down  the  weeds 


PRIMARY   LAWS.  121 

except  by  preoccupying  the  soil  with  good  seed.  And  as 
I  have  said,  the  very  labor  undergone  in  forming  good 
habits  will  harden  the  mind  and  body  for  further  ex- 
ertion. There  is  a  fable  told  somewhere  of  a  Norman 
captain  who  became  possessed  of  the  virtues,  whether 
courage,  sagacity,  perseverance,  or  whatever  else,  of  the 
persons  slain  by  him  in  battle.  This  fable  becomes  a 
fact  in  the  history  of  every  one  who  has  acquired  a 
good  habit.  Every  difficulty  surmounted  by  him,-  in  a 
branch  of  useful  knowledge,  clothes  him  with  new 
strength,  and  prepares  him  the  better  for  new  con- 
quests. 

(2.)  The  law  of  coexistence.  Ideas  which  have  "been  in 
the  mind  at  the  same  time  tend  to  recall  each  other.  This 
law  is  so  allied  to  the  other,  that  the  two  might  be  ex- 
pressed at  once  under  the  general  name  of  contiguity  or 
redintegration  ;  that  is,  thoughts  that  have  been  together 
in  the  mind,  either  contemporaneously  or  consecutively, 
tend  to  bring  up  each  other.  But  while  the  two  have 
affinities,  advantages  scientific  and  practical  arise  from 
illustrating  the  law  of  coexistence  separately. 

A  curious  question  has  been  started  as  to  how  many 
things  we  may  have  before  the  mind  at  one  and  the 
same  time.  Sir  William  Hamilton  maintained  that  we 
can  have  a  clear  idea,  at  one  time,  of  six  separate  ob- 
jects. It  is  a  matter  for  experiment.  You  will  find,  I 
think,  that  if  you  place  before  you,  in  fact  or  in  imagi- 
nation, a  number  of  objects, — say  persons,  or  marbles, 
or  chairs,  —  you  will  not  be  able  to  see  or  contemplate 
more  than  four  or  five  of  them  ;  the  rest  will  either 
look  very  dim,  or,  if  you  think  of  them,  you  must  do 
so  consecutively.  Suppose,  then,  that  you  have  a  few 
objects  before  you.  A,  B,  C,  D,  E,  then  on  any  one  of 


122  THE  ASSOCIATION   OF   IDEA«. 

these,  B,  coming  before  the  mind,  it  may  call  up  some 
one  or  all  of  the  rest.  You  met  for  the  first  time,  and 
conversed  with  two  persons  in  one  company ;  you  after- 
wards meet  one  of  them,  and  the  image  of  the  other 
stands  before  you,  possibly,  with  the  room  and  furni- 
ture in  which  you  talked  with  them.  Happening  once 
to  meet  a  Belfast  man  at  Rotterdam,  I  never  see  him 
without  thinking  of  that  city.  In  my  childhood  I  was 
accustomed  to  hear  a  flock  of  geese  cackling  as  I  lay  in 
bed'  in  my  father's  house,  and  on  the  romantic  hills  in  the 
neighborhood  I  ever  heard  the  lapwing,  the  curlew,  and 
the  grouse,  and  I  cannot  hear  the  cries  of  these  birds 
now  without  having  the  whole  scenes  of  my  younger 
years  before  me.  In  my  early  life  of  study  I  sat  in  a 
room  through  which  the  blue  flies  buzzed  most  vigor- 
ously, and  the  buzzing  of  a  big  blue  fly  always  makes 
me  seated  in  a  certain  room  at  a  little  table,  with  my 
Homer  before  me.  You  heard  a  person  tell  a  tale  that 
interested  you ;  whenever  the  tale  occurs  to  you,  it 
brings  up  the  narrator,  and  vice  versa;  the  two  formed 
as  it  were  one  complete  thought,  and  the  one  hauls  in 
the  other.  You  have  been  accustomed  to  hear  a  tune 
sung  to  certain  words  ;  whenever  the  words  are  brought 
up  the  tune  comes  up  with  them,  while  the  tune  is  apt  to 
bring  back  the  words  ;  rendering  it  very  perilous  to  at- 
tach profane  tunes  to  sacred  songs,  —  the  tune  of  "  Where 
the  sweet  waters  meet  "  to  a  hymn,  —  as  there  will  al- 
ways be  a  risk  that  the  worshipper  thinks  of  the  "  sweet 
waters  "  instead  of  the  Divine  Being.  As  one  separate 
object  thus  recalls  another  separate  object  with  which  it 
has  been  associated  in  thought  at  any  time,  so  (what  is 
very  much  the  same  thing)  if  I  have  noticed  a  number 
of  qualities  of  one  and  the  same  object,  any  one  of  these 
may  become  a  starting-point  for  an  association.    If  I  have 


PRIMARY   LAWS.  123 

met  a  man  with  a  snub  nose  and  a  blue  neckcloth  and 

extremely  witty,  so  that  pun  flashed  after  pun,  and  re- 
partee succeeded  humorous  description,  I  am  apt,  when 
I  see  a  snub  nose,  to  think  of  the  blue  neckcloth  and 
the  jokes  which  were  fired  off.  I  was  obliged  once  to  sit 
two  whole  hours  at  dinner  beside  a  lady  with  a  blazing 
crimson  gown,  loaded  all  over  with  jewelry,  but  who 
had  an  awful  incapacity  for  conversation,  and  I  never 
see  that  gaudy  color  without  thmking  of  the  lady  and 
yawning  as  I  do  so,  as  I  recall  the  terribly  long  two 
hours  I  had  with  her,  starting  topic  after  topic,  without 
a  response.  The  very  idea  of  a  dinner  company  here  sug- 
gests to  me  that  the  dullest  party  I  w;is  ever  at  was  one 
where  there  was  a  table  groaning  with  rich  food,  with 
ten  kinds  of  wine,  and  all  the  delicacies  of  the  season, 
—  that  is,  with  very  unseasonable  lamb  in  January ;  and 
I  ever  since  get  terribly  alarmed  for  a  stupid  meet- 
ing when  I  see  a  gross  display  of  eatables  and  drink- 
ables, having  no  quality  but  a  vulgar  and  sinful  expen- 
siveness. 

This  law  of  coexisting  ideas  helps  greatly  to  give 
sweep  and  variety  to  our  thoughts.  Were  there  no  law 
save  that  of  repetition,  our  thoughts,  like  Dumbiedyke's 
pony,  would  carry  their  supposed  master  always  by  the 
same  route  to  the  same  spot.  But  by  the  law  of  coexist- 
ence a  number  of  roads  are  spread  out  before  us,  that  to- 
day we  may  pass  into  one,  and  to-morrow  into  the  other. 
By  the  law  of  repetition  our  thoughts  hang  on  each 
other  like  the  links  of  a  long  chain  ;  by  this  other  they 
are  connected  as  in  a  network,  branching  off  in  all  direc- 
tions. The  law  of  repetition  would  carry  us  rapidly  as 
by  a  railway  to  a  particular  point,  but  by  the  law  of  co- 
existence we  have  the  freedom  of  a  man  driving  or  rid- 
ing, or  as  more  independent  still,  walking,  and  who  may 


124  THE   ASSOCIATION  OF  IDEAS. 

take  the  straight  road,  but  who  may  also  take  the  wind- 
ing one,  and  strike  off  when  he  chooses  from  the  high- 
ways to  the  byways ;  or  leave  all  paths  behind  as  he 
follows  the  windings  of  the  stream,  and  is  enlivened  by 
its  purlings,  or  muses  on  its  dark  pools  ;  or  as  he  lies 
down  by  the  fountain  and  gazes  on  its  perpetual  spiing- 
ing  and  the  patch  of  green  around ;  or  dives  into  the 
deep  woods,  and  listens  to  the  eerie  sound  of  the  melan- 
choly wind  howling  through  them  as  if  seeking  rest  and 
complaining  that  it  cannot  get  it ;  or  as  he  goes  out 
into  the  wayless  waste,  to  enjoy  a  sense  of  freedom  in 
wandering  at  his  free  will ;  or  as  he  boldly  marches  up 
the  steep  mountain  to  see  the  sweep  of  hills  and  rocks, 
of  plains  and  streams,  of  scattered  houses  and  crowded 
towns,  with  the  smoke  curling  up  from  them  to  show 
that  there  are  dwellers  within. 

But  in  order  to  take  full  advantage  of  this  law  we 
must  have  the  knowledge  of  a  variety  of  objects,  and 
this  is  to  be  acquired  by  observation,  by  intercourse 
with  our  fellow-men,  by  reading,  by  travelling,  that  tlius 
we  may  ever  have  themes  to  set  off  upon  in  our  musings 
and  reflections.  Persons  in  charge  of  the  deaf  and  dumb 
tell  us  that  they  may  not  be  more  stupid  than  others, 
but  being  from  "  one  inlet  to  knowledge  quite  shut  out," 
their  range  of  thinking  is  very  restricted,  till  they  are 
taught  the  use  of  signs,  whereby  to  communicate  with 
their  fellow -men.  The  ideas  of  the  uneducated  man, 
who  has  never  travelled  many  miles  from  his  native 
place,  are  apt  to  be  very  few  and  confined,  and  the  top- 
ics of  conversation  between  him  and  his  wife  very  soon 
become  exhausted  —  persons  of  intelligence  in  this  walk 
of  life  are  commonly  so  glad  when  they  can  have  the 
society  of  one  beyond  their  narrow  sphere.  "  I  never 
thought  the  world  so  big  till  I  went  to  Belfast,"  said  a 


PRIMARY   LAWS.  125 

good  woman  brought  up  twenty  miles  away  in  a  solitary 
house  in  the  Antrim  glens.  The  vvoi'ld  does  look  bigger 
as  we  come  to  know  that  there  are  other  people  in  it 
besides  those  who  live  in  our  own  parish ;  or  as  we 
study  history  and  study  science,  and  go  back  through 
English  history,  and  Irish  history,  and  Scottish  history, 
and  Roman  history,  and  Hebrew  history,  and  back  be- 
yond to  the  geological  epochs ;  or  as  we  go  out  beyond 
the  range  we  can  see  from  the  hills  above  our  mother's 
house  and  begin  to  conceive  of  so  big  a  country  as  the 
United  States,  and  then  take  in  the  whole  globe  of  our 
world,  and  the  sun's  magnitude,  and  realize  in  thought 
that  these  stars  are  suns  and  systems  of  suns ;  or  as  we 
are  trained  out  of  God's  book  to  take  in  the  yet  nobler 
idea  of  a  spiritual  God,  who  fills  all  time  and  all  space, 
so  that  they  are  no  longer  empty,  but  full  of  life  and 
love. 

But  just  because  there  is  such  a  wide  range,  there  is 
greater  scope  allowed  our  thoughts  to  wander  into  for- 
bidden regions.  And  what  starts  they  do  take  !  You 
would  think  of  a  solemn  doctrine  of  religion,  and  you 
remember  how  you  heard  it  preached  by  a  minister  in  a 
particular  church,  where  was  a  lady,  whose  character 
and  whose  ribbons  you  jfind  yourself  somewhat  eagerly 
discussing  instead  of  the  religious  truth.  This  is  a  small 
matter,  and  may  be  easily  rectified ;  however,  there 
should  be  a  rectification,  otherwise  we  shall  soon  lose 
control  over  our  minds  altogether.  But  the  danger  lies 
in  systematically  allowing  ourselves  to  indulge  in  im- 
proper thoughts,  which  come  thus  to  coexist  and  mingle 
with  all  our  trains,  so  that  every  train  brings  them  up 
along  with  it  to  carnalize  and  degrade  the  mind.  Thus 
there  are  some  who  have  cherished  thoughts  of  vanity 
(*'  how  long  shall  thy  vain  thoughts  lodge  within  thee," 


126  THE  ASSOCIATION   OF  IDEAS. 

—  Jer.  iv.  14),  and  encouraged  themselves  in  the  midst 
of  all  their  employments  to  think  of  their  supposed  abil- 
ity, skill,  prowess,  generosity  ;  and  such  feelings  being 
thus  fondled  present  themselves  even  when  they  are  not 
wished,  till  the  man  becomes  literally  puffed  up  with  van- 
ity, which  is  sure  ever  to  land  him  in  humiliations  be- 
fore his  fellow-men,  even  as  the  self-righteous  spirit  has 
all  along  been  displeasing  to  God.  Another  has  allowed 
himself  to  dwell  on  the  evil  qualities,  real  or  supposed, 
of  his  fellow-men,  till  he  becomes  habitually  envious  in 
thought,  and  censorious  in  speech.  A  third  has  rolled 
impure  thoughts  as  a  sweet  morsel  under  his  tongue,  till 
he  has  defiled  his  whole  soul,  and  he  becomes  the  easy 
prey  of,  the  first  temptation.  In  proportion  as  such 
thoughts  as  these  are  cheiished  and  mingled  with  our 
whole  life,  so  will  they  certainly  and  frequently  come  up 
of  their  own  accord  and  unbidden.  "  Be  not  deceived, 
evil  communications  corrupt  good  manners."  The  wise 
father  is  accustomed  to  warn  his  son  of  the  danger  aris- 
ing from  evil  companions,  which  are  perilous  in  very 
proportion  as  they  are  pleasant.  But  there  is  another 
class  of  companions  who  are  yet  more  dangerous,  be- 
cause they  have  yet  closer  access  to  us,  and  these  are  evil 
ideas  and  evil  feelings.  We  think  we  can  allow  these  to 
dwell  in  the  soul,  and  yet  be  untainted  by  them.  Ah, 
it  is  the  mistake  of  the  youth  who  thinks  he  can  go  into 
scenes  of  dissipation  and  folly,  and  yet  keep  himself  free 
from  the  vices  which  conquer  others.  Once  having  ad- 
mitted these  visitors  to  our  familiar  heart,  we  will  not 
be  able  to  banish  them  when  we  choose.  Having  called 
up  these  spirits  from  the  vasty  deep,  we  shall  find  that 
we  are  not  able  to  allay  them  when  we  please ;  they 
will  insist  on  abiding  with  us,  first  to  tempt,  and  then 
torment  us.     "  Can  a  man  take  fire  in  his  bosom,  and 


PRIMARY   LAWS.  127 

his  clothes  not  be  burned  ?  Can  one  go  upon  hot  coals, 
and  his  feet  not  be  burned?  " 

Under  this  head  the  youth  needs  to  be  guarded 
against  a  more  subtle  seduction.  He  must  beware  of 
identifying  morality  and  religion  with  what  is  mean  and 
gloomy  ;  and  agahi,  of  associating  vice  or  sin  of  any 
kind  with  what  is  pleasant,  and  noble,  and  generous. 
This  is  a  snare  which  the  wicked  will  lay  in  the  path  of 
the  inexperienced,  whom  tbey  would  tempt  to  look  on 
religion  us  fit  only  for  the  dying,  or  as  likely  to  be 
accepted  only  by  knaves  and  simpletons;  while  they 
represent  irreligion  as  manly,  independent,  and  opening 
numerous  sources  of  enjoyment.  Those  who  would  al- 
lure the  thoughtless  know  well  how  to  set  off  sin  and 
folly  by  theatrical  accompaniments,  by  the  setting  of 
cut  flowers  which  look  pretty  at  night,  but  which  are 
faded  on  the  morrow,  and  by  scenery  which  appears  fair 
only  when  seen  in  the  glare  of  artificial  lamps,  but  which 
we  turn  from  as  unbearably  paltry  and  shabby  in  the 
light  of  day. 

But  it  is  not  enough  to  guard  against  this  association 
with  evil ;  we  must  seek  the  society  of  the  good.  And 
here  is  the  proper  place  for  mentioning,  that  aids  to  the 
memory  proceed  very  much  on  the  principle  we  are  now 
expounding.  Persons  connect  something  which  is  apt 
to  be  forgotten  with  another  thing  which  must  come 
before  the  mind,  and  which,  as  it  comes  up,  brings  its 
companion  with  it.  This  was  the  use  of  those  signs 
upon  the  hands,  and  frontlets  between  the  eyes,  which 
were  used  in  the  East,  and  which  are  referred  to  in 
Scripture.  Such  artificial  aids  are  still  used  in  modern 
education,  and  commonly  proceed  on  the  laws  of  succes- 
Bion  or  coexistence.  Rut  by  far  the  most  useful  sort  of 
aid  to  memory  is  that  which  arises  from  the  judicious 


128  THE    ASSOCIATION    OF   IDEAS. 

arrangement  of  time,  which  secures  that  as  the  day  uf 
the  Aveek  comes  round,  or  the  hour  of  the  day  presents 
itself,  it  lets  off,  like  a  mill-wheel,  its  allotted  work.  It 
is  proverbial  that  what  may  be  done  at  any  time  is  apt 
to  be  done  at  no  time  ;  and  the  reason  why,  because  it  is 
not  connected  with  any  specific  time,  and  so  is  forgotten 
or  postponed  ;  whereas,  when  the  exercise  has  been  tied 
to  a  particular  hour,  the  hour  brings  the  recollection  of 
the  duty,  and  the  inclination  to  perform  it.  Let  me 
suppose  that  there  are  two  young  men,  one  of  whom  has 
made  no  distribution  of  his  time,  but  has  left  himself  at 
the  mercy  of  circumstances  as  they  cast  up,  whereas  the 
other  has  allotted  one  part  to  devotion,  another  to  busi- 
ness, a  third  to  relaxation,  a  fourth  to  reading  and  the 
means  of  mental  improvement ;  I  venture  to  say  that  the 
latter,  with  much  more  ease  and  satisfaction,  will  soon 
find  himself  rewarded  by  having  done  a  far  larger  amount 
of  work,  and  why?  because  he  has  conformed  to  a  law 
which  God  liimself  has  planted  in  our  constitution. 

It  is  not  enough  to  accommodate  ourselves  to  these 
practical  rules ;  we  must  seek  to  surround  ourselves  with 
the  beautiful  and  the  good.  Some  have  supposed  that  all 
beauty  consists  in  association  of  ideas.  This  I  believe 
to  be  a  mistake.  There  are  objects,  there  are  feelings, 
which  are  lovely  in  themselves.  Still,  nmch  of  the  feel- 
ing of  beauty  which  collects  around  certain  objects 
arises  from  their  coming  to  be  associated  with  peace  and 
plenty,  with  life  or  power,  or  some  other  living  reality. 
It  is  a  fact  that  uneducated  persons,  and  persons  low  in 
the  scale  of  humanity,  have,  in  general,  not  much  sense 
of  the  beautiful.  "  That 's  a  grand  mountain !  "  I  said 
once  to  an  Irish  lad  who  was  driving  my  car.  ''  Yes, 
sir,"  said  he,  "  it  feeds  a  hundred  cattle."  "  What  a 
lovely  bank !  "  said  a  romantic  young  lady  to  a  decent 


PRIMARY   LAWS.  129 

Scotchwoman,  "  Ou,  ay,"  was  the  reply,  "it  is  gran' 
for  bleachin'  claes."  Yet  there  is  surely  a  pure  source 
of  high  enjoyment  thrown  open  to  those  who  are  capa- 
ble of  looking  on  multitudes  of  objects  in  an  interesting 
light.  It  is  an  attainment,  when  we  have  so  cultivated 
our  associations  that  wherever  we  are,  and  in  every  sea- 
son of  the  revolving  year,  —  whether  among  the  opening 
buds  and  blossoms  of  spring,  or  among  the  full-blown 
flowers  of  summer,  or  the  fruitful  riches  of  autumn,  or 
the  pensiveness  of  the  falling  leaf,  or  even  among  the 
wrecks  strewn  by  winter,  we  everywhere  fix  on  objects 
which  awaken  feelings  of  the  beautiful,  the  picturesque, 
or  the  sublime.  We  have  a  compassion,  apt  to  be  min- 
gled with  contempt,  for  the  man  who  looks  on  Staffa  and 
the  Giant's  Causeway  merely  as  a  lump  of  rock,  or  on 
the  ocean  simply  as  a  great  pool  of  brine.  We  have  no 
great  respect  for  the  Yankee  who  lamented  that  there 
was  so  much  water  power  lost  at  the  Falls  of  Niagara,  or 
for  the  Glasgow  man  who  valued  Loch  Ketterin  as  a  res- 
ervoir or  big  tub,  holding  so  many  hundreds  of  thousands 
of  gallons  to  supply  his  city  with  water. 

**  A  cowslip  by  the  river's  brim, 
A  yellow  cowslip  was  to  him, 
And  it  was  nothing  more." 

Let  us  cherish  a  yet  higher  ambition.  Let  us  seek  to 
raise  ourselves  up  by  the  high  and  noble  company  we 
keep,  as  we  surround  ourselves  with  the  society  of  the 
pure  and  the  good :  by  holy  doctrine  ;  by  stern  law  ;  by 
the  "  primal  duties  that  shine  aloft  like  stars  ;  "  by  the 
memories  of  deeds  of  courage  and  perseverance,  and 
self-sacrifice ;  by  images  of  purity ;  by  models  of  excel- 
lence ;  by  high  ideas  of  God,  who  is  a  spirit ;  by  tender, 
awful,  and  yet  familiar  remembrances  of  the  God  Man, 
as  He  walked  the  earth  and  did  his  work,  and  bore  mys- 
9 


130  THE  ASSOCIATION   OF  IDEAS. 

terlous  sorrow  while  He  scattered  offices  of  kindness ; 
let  us  surround  ourselves  by  generous  sentiments,  by 
the  mercy  that  is  ever  pitiful,  by  "  the  charities  that 
soothe  and  heal  and  bless,"  that,  as  we  walk  with  them 
and  they  converse  with  us,  they  may  elevate,  and  yet 
humble  and  instruct  and  admonish  and  cheer  and  con- 
sole us. 

II.  The  Law  of  Correlation,  according  to  which, 
tvhen  we  have  discovered  a  relation  between  things,  the 
idea  of  one  tends  to  bring  up  the  others.  Attempts 
have  been  made  to  resolve  this  law  into  the  others.  I 
am  not  to  enter  into  these  subtle  discussions  liere ;  it  is 
enough  for  me  that  there  is  such  a  law  simple  or  com- 
plex ;  it  is  a  fact,  that  things  between  whicli  a  relation 
has  been  discovered  suggest  each  other. 

I  have  classified  below  (p.  211)  the  relations  which 
the  mind  can  discover,  those  (1)  of  Identity,  (2)  Whole 
and  Parts,  (3)  of  Resemblance,  (4)  of  Space,  (5)  of 
Time,  (6)  of  Quantity,  (7)  of  Active  Property,  (8)  of 
Cause  and  Effect.  When  we  have  discovered  any  one  of 
these  relations  the  objects  are  apt  to  call  up  each  other. 
An  object  in  one  position  calls  up  the  same  object  in 
other  circumstances.  A  part  suggests  the  whole  and  the 
whole  a  part.  Resembling  objects  bring  up  each  other 
as  contiguous  objects  in  space  and  time  and  quantity  do. 
The  properties  and  causal  relations  of  objects  are  pow- 
erful bonds  of  association. 

But  instead  of  enlarging  on  all  these  we  may  illus- 
trate a  few  of  them  in  a  way  which  will  come  home  to 
the  experience  of  every  one.  Thus  like  recalls  like.  It 
is  the  law  of  similarity  or  resemblance.  I  see  a  portrait 
and  immediately  I  think  of  the  original.  I  see  a  boy 
and  I  am  at  once  reminded  of  his  father,  whose  features 


PRIMARY  LAWS.  131 

he  bears.  This  law  brings  comparisons  and  likenesses 
of  every  kind  before  us,  and  we  delight  to  trace  them. 
There  are  analogies  which  commend  themselves  to  the 
minds  of  all,  and  the  one  object  ever  suggests  the  other. 
Thus  we  connect  sunshine  and  prosperity,  night  and 
adversity,  light  and  truth,  darkness  and  error,  mist  and 
confusion,  whiteness  and  innocence,  sin  and  pollution,  the 
dove  and  meekness,  the  serpent  and  Aviliness,  the  lamb 
and  gentleness,  the  tiger  and  fierceness,  the  fox  and  cun- 
ning, the  dog  and  faithfulness,  fickleness  and  fortune, 
the  forest  and  wandering,  high  winds  and  calamities, 
waves  and  troubles,  heights  and  hollows  with  prosperity 
and  adversity  alternately  succeeding  each  other,  human 
life  and  the  running  stream,  spring  and  childhood,  sum- 
mer and  the  bloom  of  youth,  autumn  and  sober  middle 
age,  the  fading  year  and  declining  life,  old  age  and  gray 
hairs  with  the  snows  of  winter.  Prose  uses  such  compar- 
isons for  instruction,  and  poetry  seizes  them,  and  brings 
thein  forth  for  delight.  "  James  Thomson,"  said  Samuel 
Johnson,  ''  could  not  see  these  two  candles  without  mak- 
ing an  image  out  of  them."  The  earlier  poets  brought 
out  the  more  obvious,  the  broader,  and  more  striking 
comparisons,  and  these  ever  come  home  most  powerfully 
to  the  hearts  of  all ;  but  these  being  now  become  com- 
monplace, certain  more  modern  poets,  such  as  Keats, 
Tennyson,  and  Browning,  are  led  to  search  for  more 
subtle  and  recondite  analogies,  which  affect  most  in- 
tensely a  select  few  who  have  run  through  all  older 
poetry.  Poetry  seeks  to  take  advantage  of  all  sorts 
of  correlations,  of  sound  and  sense,  of  measured  sylla- 
bles, of  rhyme,  of  balancings  of  idea  and  sentiment,  of 
metaphor,  simile,  contrast,  and  comparisons  of  every  kind. 
Hence  it  is  that  poetry  is  more  easily  committed  to 
memory  than  prose ;  we  have  now  not  only  the  law  of 


132  THE  ASSOCIATION   OF  IDEAS. 

repetition  to  aid  us,  but  the  law  of  resemblance  or  cor- 
relation, the  one  strengthening  the  other,  and  the  whole 
giving  impetus  to  the  stream.  But  this  law  is  not  con- 
fined in  its  influence  to  poetry ;  it  aids  the  scientific  in- 
quirer in  every  biandi  of  investigation,  by  often  bring- 
ing together  the  things  that  are  like,  and  which  should, 
therefore,  be  put  into  the  same  class  or  group.  The 
botanist  sees  a  plant;  it  suggests  a  like  plant,  and  the 
species  and  genus  to  which  it  belongs.  This  law  of  mind 
within  thus  helps  us  to  discover  the  laws  of  nature  with- 
out us  ;  and  to  make  us  feel  that  we  are  surrounded 
with  objects  not  constructed  arbitrarily,  nor  distributed 
capriciously,  but  fashioned  after  an  ordained  model-form 
or  type,  and  capable  of  being  arranged  in  the  most 
methodical  manner  into  species  and  genera,  and  orders 
and  kingdoms.  By  this  corresponding  law  within,  we 
are  thus  made  to  feel  at  home  amid  the  varied  and  com- 
plicated works  of  nature  ;  and  to  discover  among  these 
adaptations  evidence  of  a  plan  and  a  purpose. 

And  then  resemblance  is  only  one  of  many  correla- 
tions which  the  mind  is  inclined  to  discover  and  to  fol- 
low in  its  spontaneous  trains.  There  are  a  numbei-  of 
other  lines,  on  which  rails  are  set  for  it,  and  on  which  it 
will  run  if  it  is  once  placed  on  them.  Thus  it  is  apt  to 
run  on  from  effect  to  cause,  and  cause  to  effect ;  from  a 
whole  to  its  parts,  and  a  pai't  to  its  whole  ;  from  means 
to  end,  and  end  to  means.  On  seeing  an  effect,  the 
mind  naturally  goes  after  its  cause.  Thus,  in  history, 
we  inquire  what  agencies  God  employed  to  effect  the 
great  Reformation  in  the  sixteenth  centurj^ ;  what  causes 
produced  the  French  Revolution  of  1790 ;  what  influ- 
ence made  the  people  demand  the  Reform  Bill  in  Eng. 
land  in  1830  ;  and  we  would  seek  to  determine  wliat  are 
the  causes  that  produce  the  special  forms  of  immorality 


PRIMARY   LAWS.  133 

which  disgrace  our  country.  And  again,  when  we  see 
a  powerful  set  of  agencies  at  work,  we  inquire  what  will 
be  their  effect ;  what,  for  instance,  must  be  the  issue 
of  the  abolition  of  slavery  in  America?  In  science, 
Newton  inquired  what  draws  a  stone  to  the  ground,  and 
found  it  to  be  the  same  gravitation  as  keeps  the  moon  in 
her  sphere  :  and  there  are  persons  asking  what  keeps  up 
the  sun's  light,  and  they  think  it  is  a  shower  of  bodies 
which  run  round  him,  and  as  they  ever  come  nearer  dash 
into  his  atmosphere  and  strike  light  and  heat.  Thus  it 
is  that  when  we  fall  in  with  a  complex  object  we  are  in- 
clined to  resolve  it  into  its  parts ;  and  when  we  see  an 
ingenious  machine,  to  find  out  what  is  its  use.  We  need 
not  illustrate  this  farther.  All  philosophy  and  all  sci- 
ence are  illustrations  of  relations  of  some  kind,  of  class 
or  cause,  of  parts  and  whole,  or  means  and  end ;  and 
minds  of  a  philosophic  or  scientific  character  are  exer- 
cised in  discovering  these  relations,  which  are  the  rela- 
tions that  bind  nature  together ;  and  all  persons  gifted 
with  high  intellect  delight  to  pursue  and  follow  such 
relations,  as  they  are  unfolded  to  us  through  all  the 
works  of  the  Great  Creator.  Thus,  too,  we  like  to  have 
essays,  sermons,  lectures,  speeches,  not  disjointed  and 
leaping  abruptly  from  one  topic  to  a  distant  one,  but,  on 
the  contrary,  having  all  the  parts  connected  by  a  rela- 
tion of  some  kind,  and  all  the  sentences  leading  grace- 
fully the  one  to  the  other ;  and  when  this  is  done  our 
thoughts  follow  the  train  more  pleasantly,  and  we  find 
that  by  means  of  the  ties'  thus  supplied  we  can,  with 
less  difficulty,  call  when  we  please  all  the  topics  back 
into  our  memory. 

It  should  be  observed  that  as  the  result  of  the  work- 
ing of  the  laws  of  Coexistence  and  Correlation,  our  ideas 
are  apt  to  come  up  in  groups  ;  at  times  to  annoy  us  by 


134  THE   ASSOCIATION   OF  IDEAS. 

collecting  a  troublesome  crowd ;  more  frequently  to  help 
us  by  calling  in  the  powers  which  enable,  us  to  accom- 
plish our  ends,  which  we  now  do  as  if  by  instinct. 

It  is  by  such  high  relations  that  the  ideas  of  minds  of 
the  higher  sort  are  knit  together,  and  their  thoughts,  in- 
stead of  running  lilce  those  of  commonplace  minds  in 
the  same  track,  or  bringing  together  the  things  that  have 
coexisted  before,  go  after  analogies  and  causes  and  con- 
sequences and  analyses  and  uses,  and  bring  illustrations 
and  proofs  and  confirmation  from  remote  regions.  The 
memory  that  proceeds  by  correlation  is  much  higher  in 
kind  than  that  which  follows  mere  repetition  and  co- 
existence. It  has  often  been  said  that  a  powerful  mem- 
ory is  seldom  associated  with  a  strong  judgment.  This  is 
so  far  a  mistake.  In  order  to  ascertain  the  exact  truth 
we  nmst  distinguish  between  two  kinds  of  memor)',  — 
the  memory  that  goes  by  repetition  and  coexistence, 
and  the  memory  that  pursues  resemblances  and  causes 
and  other  intellectual  relations.  A  memory  that  excels 
only  in  repeating  may  certainly  exist  without  any  high 
powers  of  judgment  or  reason.  There  have  been  ex- 
traordinary instances  recorded  of  this  repeating  memory. 
The  story  told  of  a  man  employed  by  Frederick  of  Prus- 
sia to  repeat  a  poem  of  Voltaire,  on  once  hearing  it, 
is  rather  amusing.  Voltaiie  was  to  read  to  the  king  a 
poem  of  considerable  length,  which  lie  had  just  com- 
posed. After  he  had  finished  reading  the  king  remarked 
dryly,  "  That  poem  is  stolen  ;  I  have  heard  it  before." 
"  That  is  impossible,"  said  the  poet.  Whereupon  Fred- 
erick said  he  would  prove  it,  and  immediately  sent  for  a 
man  who,  to  the  great  confusion  of  Voltaire,  repeated 
the  poem  word  for  word.  Tlie  person  had  been  placed 
behind  a  screen,  and  from  once  hearing  the  poem  was 
able  to  repeat  it  correctly.     But  this  memory  is  after  all 


SECONDARY   LAWS.  1S5 

the  child's  memory,  which  goes  by  repeating  the  same, 
or  striking  off  after  the  topics  thut  have  been  together 
in  its  mind  before.  It  is  not  the  memory  of  the  man 
intellectually  advanced,  which  will  not  follow  the  one 
straight  line,  because  it  has  many  other  lines  alluring  it ; 
which  will  not  spring  up  straight  like  the  stalk  of  grass, 
or  the  reed,  but  goes  off  ramified  like  the  tree  in  mul- 
tiplied branches  and  branchlets  of  varied  curvature, 
covered  all  over  with  graceful  foliage.  It  is  not  the 
memory  of  the  historian,  the  memory  of  the  poet,  the 
memory  of  the  man  of  science,  all  of  which  proceed  by 
correlation,  and  bring  in  facts  and  images  and  generali- 
zations from  the  past  and  the  distant,  as  well  as  from 
the  present  and  the  near,  from  the  real  and  from  the 
ideal,  from  earth  and  from  heaven ;  to  instruct  by  their 
truthfulness,  to  please  by  their  beauty,  to  strike  by  their 
novelty,  or  to  combine  the  scattered  works  of  God  in  a 
sublime  unity,  illustrative  of  the  one  great  creative  mind. 
A  memory  which  thus  gathers  in  from  su(!h  varied  quar- 
ters is  ever  associated  with,  as  indeed  it  proceeds  from, 
a  powerful  understanding. 

SECTION  II. 

SECONDARY   LAWS. 

The  Law  of  Preference,  which  is  the  Law  of 
Native  Power  and  Active  Energy.  —  The  laws  of 
which  I  have  been  speaking  seem  to  me  to  be  those 
which  regiilate  the  train  of  thought.  But  the  question 
arises,  How  is  it  that  the  mind  is  led  to  follow  one  of 
these  rather  than  another  ^  or  why,  among  a  variety  of 
objects  which  it  might  follow,  does  it  take  one  rather 
than  another  ?  I  met  two  persons  in  a  particular  com- 
pany ;  the  next  time  I  fall  in  with  them  I  remember  the 


136  THE  ASSOCIATION   OF  IDEAS. 

one,  but  not  the  other.  Why  is  this?  The  reason  may 
be  that  the  one  of  them  had  a  very  brilliant  conversa- 
tion, or  he  committed  some  great  blunder  which  exposed 
him  to  ridicule,  or  he  had  a  pair  of  peculiar  gray  eyes,  or 
a  limp  as  he  walked.  The  question  now  is.  Can  we  gen- 
eralize these  reasons  ?  The  laws  of  this  kind  have  been 
called  Secondary  Laws  by  Brown,  and  the  Law  of  Pref- 
erence by  Hamilton.  I  have  a  way  of  my  own  of  stat- 
ing them. 

There  seem  to  be  two  grounds  on  which  the  mind 
turns  to  one  associated  object  rather  than  another.  The 
one  of  these  is  the  ground  of  Native  Power,  Taste,  and 
Disposition.  We  are  so  constituted  by  nature  that  our 
feelings  go  in  one  way  rather  than  another.  Thus  one 
mind  ever  tends  to  repetition,  another  rather  to  correla- 
tion. One  man  delights  in  poetical  images,  another  in 
scientific  classes  or  causes.  One  intellect  is  inclined  to 
observe  resemblances,  another  differences  and  exceptions. 
I  cannot  illustrate  this ;  it  does  not  bear  so  much  on  the 
practical  object  I  have  in  view. 

But  I  must  explain  and  illustrate  the  Law  of  Mental 
Energy.  Those  ideas  are  brought  up  most  readily  and 
frequently  on  which  we  have  bestowed  the  greatest 
amount  of  mental  exertion.  Thus  it  is  when  we  have 
once  and  again,  in  the  past,  thought  or  felt  about  certain 
objects,  they  will  be  apt  once  and  again  to  come  before 
ns  in  the  future.  Every  mind  seems  to  be  endowed  with 
a  certain  amount  of  power,  and  according  to  the  power 
expended  on  an  idea,  so  is  it  remembei-ed  for  a  greater 
length  of  time,  and  it  comes  up  more  easily  and  fre- 
quently. I  suppose  it  is  because  youth  has  the  greatest 
amount  of  this  energy  that  the  memory  is  strongest  at 
that  period  of  life,  while  in  consequence  of  fading 
strength  old  persons  feel  a  less  interest  in  the  objects 


SECONDARY   LAWS.  137 

and  events  which  pass  before  them,  and  these  in  conse- 
quence leave  little  impression  on  their  minds.  This  ex- 
ertion may  be  an  energy  of  Feeling^  of  Intellect^  or  of 
Will. 

(1.)  Those  ideas  that  have  been  attended  with  deep 
feeling  are  called  up  more  frequently/  and  readily.  —  I 
have  forgotten  many  of  the  events  of  my  childhood,  but 
there  are  some  I  can  never  forget,  they  were  accompa- 
nied with  such  deep  emotion.  I  cannot,  for  example, 
forget  that  solemn  sabbath-day  in  which  I  saw  the  corpse 
of  a  revered  father  spread  out  on  the  couch  on  which 
I  had  so  often  played  with  him.  Much  that  I  did  and 
saw  in  my  college  days  has  passed  into  oblivion  ;  but  I 
cannot  banish  one  scene  from  my  mind.  I  was  passing 
along  the  streets  when  I  saw  a  child  literally  divided  in 
two  by  the  wheel  of  a  heavily-loaded  cart  passing  over 
it.  I  got  but  a  momentary  glimpse  of  the  scene,  of  the 
mother  hurrying  frantically  past  me  to  embrace  a  man- 
gled corpse  instead  of  a  living  child  ;  but  there  it  remains 
psiinted  on  my  memory,  fresh  as  if  it  had  happened 
but  an  hour  ago.  I  do  not  remember  all  that  I  saw  in 
a  pedestrian  tour  which  I  took  in  the  highlands  of  Scot- 
land, but  I  can  never,  wliile  I  have  a  memory,  forget 
such  scenes  as  Loch  Lomond  and  the  Trossachs.  I  can- 
not recall  all  that  I  saw  in  Germany,  but  I  can  bring 
up  at  pleasure  the  "  Unter  den  Linden  "  of  Berlin  and 
the  scenes  hallowed  by  the  deeds  of  Luther.  If  Italy 
is  named,  Venice,  and  the  plains  of  Lombardy,  and  the 
Cathedral  of  Milan,  and  the  Lake  of  Como  come  up 
lively  as  a  picture.  I  remember  much  of  Switzerland, 
but  I  dwell  most  fondly  on  the  sunrise  as  seen  from  the 
Riffelberg ;  on  the  high  top  of  Mont  Blanc,  flanked  with 
its  pointed  buttresses  ;  on  the  huge  bulk  of  the  Jungfrau, 
with  its  deep  gullies  ;  and  on  the  placidity  of  Lake  Lu- 


138  THE  ASSOCIATION   OF  IDEAS. 

cerne,  guarded  by  its  horrid  mountains  of  snow  and  ice. 
My  recollection  of  Belgium  is  somewhat  flat,  but  I  do 
not  forget  'Waterloo.  Why  do  such  scenes  and  events, 
and  a  thousand  others  of  the  same  kind,  rise  up  like 
mountain-tops  in  my  retrospective  memory,  while  others 
have  sunk  out  of  sight  like  the  valleys  between?  It  is 
because,  to  use  a  geological  illustration,  they  have  been 
heaped  up  by  the  fiery  heat  of  deep  and  fervent  feeling, 
which  has  elevated  them  from  the  usual  low  level  of  life 
to  cut  and  to  face  the  sky. 

We  see,  then,  one  way  of  preserving  events  in  the 
memory.  We  may  let  the  mean  and  the  trivial  pass 
away  into  oblivion.  But  let  us  preserve  those  that  are 
worthy  by  embalming  them  in  warm  feeling.  You  can 
often  determine  what  a  man  is  wont  to  feel  an  interest 
in  by  the  objects  which  he  remembers.  Suppose  a  num- 
ber of  persons,  of  different  tastes,  training,  and  trades, 
have  traveled  over  the  same  country  in  company,  you 
may  guess  the  objects  in  which  they  felt  an  interest  by 
the  nature  of  the  scenes  remembered  by  them  most 
vividly.  The  farmer  has  a  distinct  recollection  of  the 
soil,  and  of  the  way  in  which  the  land  is  cultivated.  The 
merchant  and  manufacturer  will  rather  dwell  on  the 
symptoms  of  advancing  or  declining  trade  in  the  towns 
and  villages  along  the  route.  The  man  of  scientific  cul- 
ture can  tell  you  what  were  the  plants  and  animals  of 
the  district,  and  what  the  sti'ucture  of  the  rocks  ;  while 
he  who" has  a  taste  for  the  beauties  of  nature  can  never 
forget  those  hills  and  glens  and  streams  of  romantic 
beauty  which  so  kindled  his  eye  as  he  passed  them. 
The  antiquarian  delights  to  describe  that  ruin  covered 
by  the  hoar  of  age ;  while  the  man  of  historic  taste  will 
wonder  at  all  the  others  because  they  never  noticed 
that   plain   where   a   great   battle  —  that   decided    the 


SECONDARY   LAWS.  139 

doubtful  fate  of  a  country  —  was  fought,  or  that  house 
which  was  the  birthplace  of  some  patriot  or  poet.  And 
that  phiin-looking  dwelling :  it  was  not  observed  at  all 
by  the  mass  of  the  company,  and  those  who  noticed  it 
thought  it  one  of  the  dullest,  stupidest  places  on  the 
whole  journey ;  but  to  one  man  it  is  one  of  the  kindest 
and  most  endeared  spots  on  the  surface  of  this  wide 
world,  —  for  that  house  was  his  birthplace,  associated 
with  his  earliest  and  dearest  recollections,  recalling  the 
scenes  of  childhood  and  the  countenances  of  friends  de- 
parted from  this  world,  so  that  the  wealthiest  cities 
on  the  route,  and  the  most  goigeous  temples,  and  the 
loveliest  of  the  valleys,  and  the  grandest  of  the  rocks 
and  mountains,  have  not  had  to  him  half  the  interest 
which  this  place  possesses. 

(2.)  Those  ideas  come  up  most  frequently  and  readily 
on  which  we  have  bestowed  the  greatest  amount  of  intellec- 
tual energy.  —  Children,  it  is  well  known,  are  apt  to  for- 
get those  lessons  which  they  have  learned  easily,  whereas 
other  lessons  acquired  with  greater  care  cling  to  the 
memory.  We  sometimes  see  the  principle  very  strik- 
ingly illustrated  in  the  case  of  two  boys  in  the  same 
family,  one  of  whom  learns  quickly  and  forgets  as  rap- 
idly, whereas  the  other  has  acquired  his  task  more 
laboriously,  but  retains  it  longer.  There  were  many  ad- 
vantages in  the  old  plan  of  thorough  drilling  and  dis- 
ciplining. I  have  no  faith  in  science  made  easy,  and 
philosophy  in  sport.  Some  one  was  recommending  to 
Sir  Walter  Scott  a  plan  of  teaching  science  by  cards. 
"  You  will  easily,"  he  remarked,  "  teach  them  to  be  fond 
of  the  cards ;  you  will  have  a  greater  difficulty  in  giving 
them  thus  a  taste  for  the  science."  I  have  no  faith  in 
those  quack  teachers  who  can  make  you  master  of  pen- 
manship in  tw^elve  lessons,  or  of  French  in  three  months. 


140  THE  ASSOCIATION   OF   IDEAS. 

or  Latin  in  a  twelvemonth.  There  is  really  no  royal 
road  to  knowledge.  The  Prince  of  Wales  must  learn  his 
mathematics  in  the  same  laborious  way  as  the  peasant's 
son.  Drilling  is  a  good  thing  in  itself ;  it  is  the  sole  way 
to  make  an  intellectual  soldier  ;  only  the  exercise,  if  not 
less  laborious  than  it  used  to  be  in  old  times,  should  be 
made  as  interesting  and  pleasant  as  possible.  There  is 
no  lielp  for  it ;  the  man  who  would  get  to  the  top  must 
climb  the  mountain,  but  there  may  be  some  rests  by  the 
way,  and  he  may  get  some  pleasant  views  as  he  ascends. 
Young  men  should  not  grudge  the  labor  bestowed  on  a 
branch  of  study  ;  it  is  one  of  the  conditions  of  their 
being  able  to  retain  what  they  have  got,  for  it  is  as  true 
of  knowledge  as  of  money,  that  what  is  I'apidly  earned  is 
often  as  rapidly  spent,  whereas  what  is  laid  up  with  care 
and  industry  is  commonly  more  sedulously  preserved. 
Young  men  cannot  acquire  a  more  valuable  habit  than 
that  of  giving  their  intellect  thoroughly  to  their  busi- 
ness, their  reading,  their  religion.  There  are  many  per- 
sons who,  from  neglecting  so  to  discipline  their  intel- 
lects, seem  to  have  lost  all  power  of  actively  exercising 
them,  and  any  knowledge  they  have  acquired  has  passed 
through  their  mind,  like  the  familiar  striking  of  a  clock, 
or  like  the  walk  from  their  house  to  their  place  of  busi- 
ness. Their  very  reading,  which  is  chiefly  in  novels  and 
romances,  is  a  sort  of  idleness,  which  gives  no  robust- 
ness to  the  frame  ;  is  often,  indeed,  a  sort  of  intoxication, 
which  exhilarates  without  strengthening,  and  ends  in 
ennui  and  disgust.  Those  books  are  the  best,  not  which 
think  for  you,  but  which  make  you  think.  If  you  have 
not  thought  over  what  you  have  attained,  all  your  ac- 
quirements are  like  the  articles  in  a  lumber-room ;  some 
of  them  may  be  valuable  enough,  but  they  are  not  at 
your  command.     It  is  when  you  have  thought  a  book 


SECONDARY   LAWS.  141 

and  its  subject  all  over  again  that  it  becomes  your  own, 
and  its  tlioughts  will  not  only  abide  in  your  memory, 
but  be,  as  it  were,  incorporated  into  your  intellectual 
being,  to  abide  with  you  for  strength  and  for  useful 
application. 

(3.)  Ideas  come  up  more  readily  and  frequently  when 
they  are  associated  with  an  act  of  the  will,  more  especially 
when  we  exercise  an  act  of  Attention  regarding  them. 
It  is  mercifully,  as  I  think,  provided  that  much  of  what 
we  have  witnessed  and  experienced  passes  away  speedily 
from  the  memory.  Were  this  not  the  case,  our  minds 
would  be  filled  with  innumerable  trifles.  We  must  hear 
the  timepiece  that  strikes  in  the  room  in  which  we  are, 
but  a  minute  after  we  cannot  say  whether  we  heard 
it  or  not.  How  little  does  a  commercial  traveller  re- 
member, in  ordinary  circumstances,  of  his  journey  from 
Manchester  to  Liverpool,  or  from  New  York  to  Phila- 
delphia, which  he  has  so  often  taken !  It  is  well  that 
much  passes  away  after  this  manner.  But  we  must  not 
allow  all  to  vanish  in  this  way.  And  we  have  a  means 
of  retaining  what  is  valuable :  let  us  exercise  our  wills 
regarding  it,  let  us  direct  our  attention  towards  it.  We 
blame  our  memories  when  we  forget,  but  there  is  often 
a  greater  culprit  than  the  memory,  and  that  is  the 
heart ;  we  felt  no  interest  in  the  subject ;  the  party  to 
blame  is  the  will ;  we  paid  no  attention  to  it.  I  know 
a  man  noted  for  his  forgetfulness  ;  but  it  has  been  re- 
marked about  him  that  he  only  forgets  what  relates  to 
his  neighbor's  interests  and  feelings ;  he  never  forgets 
what  relates  to  his  own.  We  must  all  know  children 
who  are  forgetful  enough  when  we  cannot  get  them  in- 
terested, but  who  never  forget  what  is  taught  them 
when  we  can  allure  them  to  attend.  We  complain  that 
we  are  apt  to  forget  the  books  we  read,  the  sermons  or 


142  THE  ASSOCIATION   OF  IDEAS. 

lectui'es  we  hear.  Possibly  it  may  not  be  of  great  im- 
portance to  remember  all  that  we  have  read  or  heard : 
but  if  it  is  worth  recollection,  there  is  a  means  of  fixing 
it.  Our  voluntary  determinations  have  a  sort  of  ^.nti- 
septic  power  to  preserve  what  they  are  applied  Lo.  Let 
us,  as  we  read  the  book,  voluntarily  recall  the  topics  at 
the  end  of  every  chapter.  Let  us  go  over  mentally,  after 
it  is  closed,  the  sermon  or  lecture  we  are  anxious  to  re- 
tain in  the  mind  ;  or,  better  still,  let  us  take  notes  of 
the  topics  of  importance  in  the  book  or  lecture,  and  we 
have  got  the  patent  process  which  will  fix  forever  the 
coloi's  that  might  otherwise  fade. 

The  question  has  been  asked,  How  is  it  that  when  we 
form  a  purpose  to  do  an  act  at  a  certain  time,  we  recol- 
lect, in  the  multitude  of  our  thoughts  within  us,  to  per- 
form it  ?  The  answer  is  that  we  are  able  to  do  so  only 
when  the  resolution  has  been  sufficiently  earnest.  If 
formed  in  a  careless  way  it  may  never  be  executed.  We 
have  heard  of  the  young  gentleman  who  forgot  the 
appointment  he  had  made  to  meet  a  young  lady  at  a 
particular  hour.  Whereupon  she  east  him  off,  very 
properly,  for  if  his  love  had  been  deep  he  would  not 
have  been  so  oblivious. 

We  live  in  an  age  in  which  men  know  well  how  to 
use  all  sorts  of  material  power,  how  to  use  water  power 
and  steam  power  and  electric  power ;  and  they  guide  the 
steam,  and  condense  the  vapor,  and  place  wires  to  con- 
duct the  unseen  agency,  and  all  that  they  may  set  up 
incalculable  machinery  wherewithal  to  produce  nutri- 
ment and  covering,  for  utility  and  for  ornament.  But 
God  has  given  to  every  one  a  lease  of  a  far  more  impor- 
tant power,  that  we  may  guide  it  into  the  proper  chan- 
nels, and  get  it  up  at  the  proper  times,  and  direct  it  along 
the  proper  lines,  and  all  that  we  may  awaken  genuine 


SECONDARY   LAWS.  143 

feeling,  and  gather  swift  knowledge  from  afar,  and  go  on 
to  useful  and  benevolent  action.  But  youth,  I  remark,  is 
the  season  in  which  this  power  is  the  quickest  and  the 
strongest  and  the  most  easily  directed.  In  after  life  we 
shall  be  apt  to  find  it  already  directed  in  channels  from 
which  it  cannot  easily  be  moved ;  and  (to  change  the 
image)  the  endeavors  you  make  to  get  up  life  will  be 
like  the  attempts  of  the  birds  in  October  to  raise  a  song : 
a  cheerful  note  it  is  in  its  way,  and  we  do  enjoy  it  at  such 
a  season,  but  it  is  not  like  the  full  chorus  of  the  wood 
in  spring,  —  and  such  is  the  activity  of  youth,  when  it 
is  wisely  directed,  and  all  turned  into  a  song  of  praise  to 
the  Great  Creator. 

We  have  thus  shown  that  law  reigns  in  mind  as 
it  does  in  matter.  When  we  know  what  the  laws  of 
matter  are,  we  can  take  advantage  of  them,  and  apply 
them  to  useful  purposes  in  the  arts.  When  we  know 
what  the  laws  of  mind  are,  we  can  apply  them  in  the 
education  of  the  mind. 

But  before  closing  I  must  guard  against  an  impression 
which  may  be  left,  when  it  is  proven  that  the  succession 
of  our  ideas  is  governed  by  laws  which  operate  indepen- 
dently of  us.  It  may  be  concluded  that  we  have,  and 
that  we  can  have,  no  control  over  our  thoughts  and  feel- 
ings, which  move,  and  must  ever  move,  like  the  winds  of 
heaven.  I  have  been  laboring  to  give  the  very  opposite 
lesson.  It  is  because  the  succession  of  our  mental  state 
is  under  law  that  we  can  command  our  minds  and  bring 
them  into  subjection.  We  certainly  see  many  who  seem 
to  have  as  little  control  over  their  own  minds  as  they 
have  over  the  minds  of  others ;  they  are  the  slaves  of 
the  thought,  the  impulse,  the  feeling,  the  suspicion,  the 
passion,  that  happens  to  come  up  at  the  time  or  be 
uppermost.     But  we  have  a  will,  and  a  free  will,  given 


144  THE  ASSOCIATION   OF  IDEAS. 

US  by  God  for  this  purpose,  that  we  may  rule  our 
thoughts  ;  and  this  we  can  do  most  effectually  when  we 
know  what  the  laws  are  which  our  thoughts  obey  in 
their  order  and  succession.  We  cannot,  indeed,  will  into 
our  minds  any  absent  thought ;  for,  as  has  often  been 
shown,  to  will  it  is  already  to  have  the  thought.  If  I 
have  forgotten  the  name  of  the  capital  of  Japan,  I  cannot 
command  it  to  appear.  But  if  1  remember  any  object 
with  which  it  is  associated,  I  can,  by  an  act  of  the  will, 
detain  this,  and  think  of  it  till  what  I  want  comes.  I 
can  think  of  Japan  and  of  the  Japanese  I  have  seen, 
till  Tokio  comes  up  by  the  law  of  association.  It  is 
for  this  purpose  I  have  been  at  such  pains  to  expound 
the  laws  of  association,  that  as  knowing  them  we  may 
employ  and  apply  them  for  the  proper  ordering  of  all 
our  knowledge,  for  the  formation  of  good  habits,  and 
generally  to  obtain  a  thorough  command  over  our 
minds,  —  a  command  which  we  find  to  be  more  glo- 
rious than  that  of  the  general  when  he  has  horse,  foot, 
and  artillery,  all  so  trained  and  disposed  that  they 
move  like  the  limbs  of  his  body  at  his  will.  "  He  that 
ruletli  his  spirit  is  better  than  he  that  taketh  a  city." 
By  thus  systematically  disciplining  our  minds,  we  shall 
find  that  we  have  a  greater  control  over  our  thoughts 
than  we  at  first  imagined.  We  shall  find  that  as  we 
habitually  repel  them,  the  things  that  are  vain  and  evil 
disappear,  while  the  tilings  that  are  great  and  good,  as 
we  cherish  them,  remain  with  us,  to  talk  with  us,  to  in- 
struct us,  to  elevate  us.  He  who  has  a  mind  so  stocked 
and  trained  is  like  the  traveller  who  carries  his  provisions 
with  him  ;  he  is  in  some  measure  independent  of  the  ordi- 
nary accidents  of  life  and  the  circumstances  in  which  he 
may  be  placed,  for  he  can  feed,  wherever  he  goes,  on  the 
stores  he  has  laid  up. 


ERSITl 

PHYSIOLOGICAL  PROCESSES  INVOLVED  IN  ASSOCIATION.      145 
SECTION  III. 

PHYSIOLOGICAL   PROCESSES    INVOLVED   IN    ASSOCIATION. 

The  question  is  put  whether  I  have  explained  thorou;;hly  the  tacts 
of  association.  I  answer  that  it  is  doubtful  whether  this  has  been 
done  by  any  one.  There  is  one  important  element  of  which  no  ac- 
count has  been  taken.  Association  of  ideas  must  depend  partly 
on  the  brain,  on  the  gray  cellular  matter  at  the  periphery,  or  on  the 
currents  through  the  brain,  or,  as  I  rather  think,  on  both,  the  nature 
and  disposition  of  the  ceils  determining  the  direction  of  the  cur- 
rents. 

There  is  reason  to  believe  that  every  action  of  the  mind,  intellec- 
tual and  ouiotive,  leaves  an  impress  on  the  brain.  It  may  be  main- 
tained that  a  concurrence  of  brain  action  is  necessary  to  mental 
action,  j)articularly  to  the  calling  up  of  the  ideas  of  material  objects. 
Our  ideas  flow  more  pleasantly  when  the  brain  is  in  a  healtliy  state. 
On  the  other  hand,  we  feel  embarrassed  in  the  ordei-ing  of  our  thoughts 
when  oppressed  with  headache:  we  labor  to  call  up  a  series  of  ideas, 
and  we  find  that  they  will  not  appear.  Late  at  night,  after  hours  of 
anxious  thought,  we  find  that  the  required  train  will  not  move  on  ;  it 
will  start  on  its  journey  only  after  we  have  been  refreshed  by  sleep. 
It  is  clear  that  the  cellular  powers  or  nervous  curi'ents  must  help  or 
hinder  the  use  and  flow  of  ideas. 

I  believe  that  every  thought  and  every  feeling  produces  an  effect 
upon  the  cellular  portion  of  the  brain,  and  leaves  an  impress  upon  it. 
Now,  in  order  to  the  reproduction  of  the  thought  and  feeling  in 
memory,  it  seems  to  be  necessary  to  have  a  cooperation  of  the  organ 
of  the  brain  thus  affected,  and  to  have  the  aid  of  currents.  When 
the  association  has  not  this  concurrence  it  is  hindered  and  re- 
strained. How  irksome  do  we  find  it  to  learn  the  graiimiar  of  a  new 
language,  or  the  technicalities  of  a  new  science,  or,  indeed,  to  pen- 
etrate into  any  unfamiliar  subject  ;  while  we  find  it  easy  to  nse  the 
tongue,  or  follow  the  science,  or  to  speak  on  the  topic,  when  lines  have 
as  it  were  been  made  for  us  in  the  brain  to  carry  us  on.  So,  when  there 
is  a  lesion  in  a  particular  part  of  the  brain,  we  may  lose  certain  of  our 
recollections,  say  of  Greek,  or  of  certain  events  in  our  past  life.  In 
old  age  memory  is  the  first  faculty  that  fails,  because  of  decaying  or 
decayed  organs.  The  recollection  of  names  is  apt  to  go  first,  be- 
cause, names  being  commonly  arbitrary,  there  are  no  mental  correla- 
10 


146  THE  ASSOCIATION   OF  IDEAS. 

dons  to  bring  them  up,  and  we  have  to  hunt  for  connected  ideas  to 
call  them  forth.  I  have  observed  when  names  have  correlations, 
when  they  are  titles  or  are  expressive  of  the  objects,  they  are  as 
easily  brought  up  as  other  things. 

Physiology  has  to  advance  several  stages  before  it  can  give  a  full 
account  of  the  connection  of  the  brain  with  the  use  of  thought.  We 
should  be  grateful  to  it  for  any  light  it  may  throw  on  the  subject. 
But  two  important  positions  are  to  be  defended.  First,  The  ideas  in 
the  mind  are  not  mere  cellular  or  nervous  products.  We  cannot 
perceive  them  by  the  senses.  The  microscope  has  not  detected 
them.  We  are  conscious  of  them,  and  our  consciousness  tells  us 
their  nature,  which  is  mental,  and  not  2)hysical.  Secondly,  There 
are  mental  laws  of  association,  such  as  I  have  just  been  seeking  1o 
enunciate  and  illustrate,  say  Contiguity  and  Correlation.  These  are 
undoubtedly  the  principal  laws  guiding  the  flow  of  our  ideas  ;  the 
physiological  ones  being  merely  subsidiary- 

This  may  be  the  most  appropriate  place  for  noticing  the  circum- 
stance that  as  trains  of  thought,  at  first  conscious  and  voluntary,  are 
confirmed  by  frequent  repetition,  they  become  more  involuntary, 
and  we  are  scarcely  conscious  of  them.  Thus  we  come  to  run  over 
the  letters  of  the  alphabet  and  the  numbers  1,  2,  3,  .  .  .100,  without 
an  effort,  with  scarcely  any  feeling,  and  with  no  recollection.  It  is 
supposed  that  many  of  our  organic  actions  were  originally  voluntary, 
but  are  now  involuntary  and  unconscious.  I  am  convinced,  how- 
ever, that  much  of  this  action  has  still  a  sort  of  dull  consciousness 
attached  to  it,  and  that  the  dormant  will  maj'  awake  on  occasions. 
This  may  account  for  some  of  the  curious  phenomena  of  our  com- 
pound nature,  such  as- mesmerism,  dreaming,  and  so  forth. 

Measurements,  not  always  trustworthy,  have  been  made  as  to  the 
time  occupied  in  reflex  action,  as  when  a  sound  or  sight  goes  up  to  the 
brain  and  is  answered  by  speech.  But  it  has  been  found  more  difB- 
cult  to  determine  the  time  occupied  by  our  purely  mental  acts,  say 
by  a  succession  of  ideas  in  counting.  Is  there  any  relation  between 
the  normal  time  of  the  successive  ideas  in  our  mind  and  that  of  the 
beating  of  the  pulse  and  winking  of  the  eyes  ?  It  is  certain  that  the 
flow  of  ideas  differs  very  widely  in  different  states,  in  fever  the 
rapidity  may  become  very  great. 


THE  RAPIDITY   OF   THOUGHT.  147 


SECTION   IV. 

THE    RAPIDITY    OK    THOUGHT. 

Lord  Brougham  has  given  us  instances  of  the  rapidity  of  thought. 
He  was  dictating  when  he  fell  nsleep  while  his  clerk  wrote  the  sen- 
tence he  had  dictated.  On  awaking  he  found  that  an  immense  num- 
ber of  thoughts  had  passed  through  his  mind.  But  we  have  now 
more  accurate  measurements.  I  have  been  favored  with  the  follow- 
ing summary  by  James  Mark  Baldwin,  A.  B.,  Ex-Fellow  of  Prince- 
ton College.  (See  his  excellent  translation  of  liibot's  "  German 
Psychology  of  To- Day.")  The  measurement  of  the  duration  of 
mental  acts  was  begun  by  Bonders  about  1861.  Before  him,  it  was 
generally  admitted  that  psychic  processes  must  be  construed  in  time, 
and  the  question  of  the  rapidity  of  thought  was  discussed  from  a 
standpoint  of  consciousness.  We  think  sometimes  faster,  sometimes 
more  slowly.  But  this  subjective  estimation  of  time  was  necessarily 
vague,  inasmuch  as  it  was  impossible  to  eliminate  the  physical  and 
emotional  influences  which  alter  the  flow  of  our  ideas.  Since  the 
discoveries  of  Helmholtz  and  others,  as  to  the  velocity  of  nerve 
transmission,  it  has  become  possible  to  arrive  at  a  determinate  ex- 
pression for  the  time  necessary  to  some  of  the  simpler  processes. 

(1.)  Beginning  with  sense-perception,  the  simplest  intellectual  act, 
the  case  is  briefly  this  :  Let  the  skin  of  a  man  in  normal  condition 
be  pricke<l,  and  let  the  subject  speak  as  soon  as  the  pain  is  felt.  The 
period  which  elapses  is  called  the  simple  reaction  time,  and  is  found 
to  vary  with  the  different  senses  from  one  eighth  to  one  fifth  of  a 
second. 

Upon  consideration  it  is  readily  seen  that  this  period  may  be  di- 
vided into  three  parts;  first,  sensor  transmission  to  the  brain;  second, 
the  mental  process  of  perception  and  volition  ;  and  third,  motor- 
transmission  to  the  organs  of  speech.  Now  since  the  velocity  in  both 
the  motor  and  sensor  nerves  is  known,  we  reach  by  subtraction  the 
time  of  the  mental  act.  Instruments  are  used  by  means  of  which 
differences  to  the  ten-thousandth  of  a  second  are  noted.  Avoiding 
figures,  which  are  still  somewhat  in  dispute,  we  may  give  two  gen- 
eral principles. 

(a.)   The  simplest  mental  act  occupies  an  appreciable  period  of  time. 

(b.)  The  purely  physiological  time  is  less  than  half  of  the  entire  re- 
action. 

(2.)  Passing  from  simple  perception  to  the  reproduction  of  ideas  as 


148  THE  ASSOCIATION   OF  IDEAS. 

memory  pictures,  it  is  concluded  from  experiments  conducted  upon 
similar  methods,  that 

(a.)  The  time  of  the  reproduction  of  a  state  of  consciousness  is  longer 
than  the  time  of  its  production. 

(b.)  The  time  of  reproduction  depends  upon  the  degree  of  energy  ex- 
erted (1)  in  the  original  perception,  (2)  in  the  reproduction. 

(3.)  A  third  operation,  upon  which  many  experiments  have  been 
made  and  definite  results  obtained,  is  that  of  discernment  or  discrimi- 
nation. Two  colored  lights  are  shown  indiscriminately  and  the  sub- 
ject is  to  react  only  when  he  sees  the  color  agreed  upon  beforehand. 
This  involves  first  a  comparison  and  second  a  judgment.  By  an 
easy  process  the  purely  physiological  time  is  eliminated  and  the  dura- 
tion of  the  mental  act  is  found  to  be  one  twentieth  of  a  second 
(Kries)  to  one  tenth  of  a  second  (Wundt). 

(4.)  Experiment  has  rendered  service  also  in  defining  and  confirm- 
ing the  laws  of  association.  The  time  of  a  simple  association  is  de- 
termined, that  is,  three  fourths  to  four  fifths  of  a  second. 

(5.)  A  fifth  class  of  experiments  relates  to  the  logical  judgment  of 
subordination  (from  species  to  genus).  It  is  found  that  the  time  is 
longest  when  the  subject  is  abstract  and  the  predicate  a  more  general 
notion  ;  shortest  when  the  subject  is  concrete,  and  the  predicate  a 
less  general  notion.  The  average  of  a  great  number  of  experiments 
gives  the  time  about  one  second. 

It  should  be  said  that  these  results  are  true  only  in  an  average 
sense  and  under  normal  conditions.  During  the  last  five  years  great 
activity  has  been  shown  in  the  study  of  abnormal  and  artificial  states, 
but  the  difficulties  are  very  great,  and  the  present  condition  of  the 
science  does  not  warrant  a  positive  statement  of  results. 

It  may  be  added,  however,  that  in  every  case  the  general  utter- 
ances of  the  inner  sense  are  directly  confirmed,  and  the  ultimateness 
of  consciousness  as  the  psychological  point  of  departure  is  in  so  far 
vindicated.^ 

SECTION   V. 

DISCUSSIONS   AS   TO    THE   LAWS   OF   ASSOCIATION. 

I  have  illustrated  the  subject  in  the  loose  way  in  which  it  is  com- 
monly presented.    But  difficult  and  disputed  points  have  arisen.    All 

1  Books  of  reference  on  this  subject  are  :  Wundt,  Physiologische  Psycho- 
\ogie,  ii.  cap.  16 ;  Ribot,  German  Psychology  of  To-Day,  Eng.  trans.,  chap 
vii. ;   Buccola,  La  legge  del  tempo,  etc. 


DISCUSSIONS  AS   TO   THE  LAWS   OF  ASSOCIATION.      149 

are  agreed  that  Contiguity  is  a  law  of  Association.  Some  reckon  it 
the  sole  law,  and  argue  that  by  some  little  subtlety  all  other  laws, 
such  as  that  of  Resemblance,  can  be  reduced  to  it.  It  will  also  be 
generally  allowed  that  there  is  a  law  of  Correlation  to  the  effect  that, 
having  discovt^red  a  relation  between  objects,  when  the  one  comes 
up  the  other  is  apt  to  follow.  But  it  is  evident  that  this  may  be 
merely  an  exemplification  of  the  Law  of  Contiguity,  for  the  objects 
have  been  together  in  the  mind. 

It  is  clear,  however,  that  the  correlation  discovered  greatly 
strengthens  the  association.  We  remember  a  discourse  much  more 
readily  when  the  thoughts  were  connected.  It  is  for  that  reason  we 
can  commit  to  memory  a  piece  of  poetry  more  easily  than  one  of  the 
same  length  in  prose  ;  in  the  former  case  we  have  not  only  the  con- 
tiguities but  the  congruities  to  carry  us  on  ;  we  have  the  correlations 
of  sound  and  sense.  There  is  an  amusing  story  told  of  a  minister  who, 
on  finding  a  boy  at  the  helm  guiding  a  vessel,  inquired  of  him  if  he 
couhl  box  the  compass,  which  he  did.  He  then  asked  him  to  do  the 
same  backward,  which  he  also  did.  The  boy  then  asked  the  minis- 
ter to  say  the  Lord's  prayer,  to  which  the  clergyman  complacently 
assented.  The  boy  then  insisted  on  his  saying  the  Lord's  prayer 
backward,  which  he  declined  to  undertake.  The  boy  was  able  to 
interpret  the  instrument  backward  because  in  the  compass  he  had 
correlations,  whereas  the  other  had  none  in  the  Lord's  prayer.  Sci- 
entific truths  are  more  easily  called  up  than  scattered,  disconnected 
ones,  because  ihey  have  been  placed  under  laws  of  correlation  or 
connection. 

Rut  the  question  arises.  Do  correlated  things  suggest  each  other 
before  the  correlation  has  been  discovered  ?  On  entering  a  room  wc 
see  a  portrait  on  the  wall,  and  we  immediately  think  of  the  original, 
whom  we  have  often  met.  Had  we  ever  seen  the  original  and  the 
painting  together  the  idea  would  have  been  called  up  by  the  Law  of 
Contiguity.  But  we  never  heard  that  there  was  a  portrait  of  the 
person,  and  yet  his  figure  casts  up.  Apparently  it  does  so  by  the 
law  that  "  like  recalls  like."  Prima  facie,  the  Law  of  Resemblance 
seems  a  simple  and  original  one,  and  has  commonly  been  so  regarded. 

It  should  be  noticed  that,  in  order  to  correlative  association,  the 
two  objects  must  both  have  been  previously  in  the  mind  ;  the  por- 
trait is  before  us  and  we  are  acquainted  with  the  figure  and  expres- 
sion of  the  original.  In  seeking  to  penetrate  deeper  into  the  nature 
of  the  suggestion  of  resemblance,  it  is  to  be  borne  in  mind  that  ob- 


150  THE  ASSOCIATION   OF  IDEAS. 

jects  are  known  by  their  qualities,  and  that  all  actual  objects  are 
complex  or  concrete,  that  is,  have  several  qualities,  and  they  are  so 
remembered  by  us.  Let  the  letters  of  the  alphabet  denote  the  ob- 
jects related.  Let  us  denote  the  portrait  with  its  qualities  as  a,  b, 
c,  d,  in  which  a,  b  are  the  figure  and  expression  and  c,  d,  the  can- 
vas, frame,  etc.  This  portrait  recalls  the  person  a',  b',  x,  y,  etc., 
when  a',  b'  are  the  features  and  expression,  and  x,  y,  etc.,  the  man's 
walk  and  gestures.  Now  it  may  be  argued  that  a,  b  of  the  portrait 
call  up  a',  b'  of  the  person,  while  the  others,  x,  y,  come  up  accord- 
ing to  the  Law  of  Contiguity.  If  this  view  be  correct  it  is  the  same 
that  calls  up  the  same,  the  second  same  calling  up  by  contiguity  the 
objects  associated  with  it. 

It  may  be  more  difficult  to  explain  in  this  way  other  correlated 
associations.  But  let  us  try  some  of  them.  In  doing  so  we  may  find 
that  every  relation  has  a  ground,  and  that  they  are  the  same  qualities 
in  each  object  forming  the  correlation  that  constitute  the  principle  of 
the  association.  It  should  be  observed,  however,  that  it  is  not  by 
the  affinity  of  abstract  qualities  that  the  association  takes  place,  but 
simply  by  the  objects  possessing  the  same  qualities;  by  the  portrait 
and  the  original  both  possessing  the  same  qualities,  figure,  and  ex- 
pression, in  this  respect  being  alike. 

We  can  account  in  the  same  way  for  Contrast,  being,  as  Aristotle 
asserted,  a  law  of  association.  Contrast,  as  a  relation,  comes  under 
general  correlation  of  Resemblance  and  Difference.  In  all  Contrast 
there  is  implied  some  sameness  ;  there  is  no  contrast  of  things  en- 
tirely different,  and  the  implied  sameness  a,  b,  in  both  binds  the  ob- 
jects together  in  our  minds. 

This  seems  to  be  the  law  of  correlative  association.  The  same 
suggests  the  same,  which  by  contiguity  brings  in  correlative  objects, 
and  the  relations  are  perceived  by  the  mind.  Those  acquainted 
with  the  lectures  of  Thomas  Brown,  of  Edinburgh,  will  remember 
that  he  has  two  kinds  of  suggestion,  Simple  and  Relative,  —  Simple 
being  much  the  same  as  I  have  been  describing  in  Chap.  III.  Sect.  I. 
But  Relative  suggestion  embraces  two  powers  ;  the  one  association 
proper,  and  the  other  the  discovery  of  relations.  These  I  think  should 
be  carefully  separated.  The  latter  is  really  the  power  of  discovering 
relations  or  comparison.  But  while  they  are  different,  they  may 
combine  in  the  way  I  have  been  endeavoring  to  describe,  and  the 
process  may  be  called  Relative  Suggestion. 

Let  us  view  the  mind  acting  under  this  power.     When  objects 


DISCUSSIONS  AS  TO  THE  LAWS  OP  ASSOCIATION.      151 

present  themselves  to  us  by  sense  or  by  image,  tliey  do  so  by  means 
of  their  qualities.  Our  anxiety  is  to  know  what  tlie  object  is^ 
and  how  it  stands  related  to  other  objects.  Whence  has  it  come  If 
How  does  it  act  ?  As  we  keep  the  object  or  idea  before  us,  one  a*« 
sociated  quality  after  another  presents  itself,  all,  it  may  be,  in  an  im- 
measurably short  time,  ■— we  say, '•  quick  as  thought."  As  they  do 
so,  the  mind  perceives  by  its  power  of  comparison  vaflous  relations, 
and  as  the  result  we  find  what  the  object  is,  what  its  nature  and  its 
use.  That  cry  is  the  same  as  I  heard  in  my  boyhood,  in  the  moun- 
tain region  I  used  to  visit;  it  is  the  screech  of  an  eagle.  That 
sound  is  of  a  bell  inviting  me  to  the  house  of  prayer.  That  pic- 
ture has  the  features  and  expression  of  a  friend  I  knew  well,  and 
is  his  portrait.  The  wound  of  that  person  lying  on  the  ground  is 
the  same  as  I  have  seen  inflicted  by  a  gun-shot,  and  I  fear  the  per- 
son has  been  murdered.  A  boy  is  going  along  a  road  with  a  satchel 
of  books ;  this  suggests  a  school,  and  we  decide  that  the  boy  is  going 
to  school.  We  may  have  noticed  that  it  is  only  after  allowing  the 
object  as  we  think  of  it  to  suggest  one  quality  after  another,  that  we 
touch  the  chord  which  discloses  to  us  what  we  are  in  search  of,  — 
the  nature  and  use  of  the  object.  Thus  closely  are  the  associations 
of  correlation  and  the  discovery  of  relations  connected  together  and 
mutually  aiding  each  other.  But  the  farther  discussion  and  illustra- 
tion of  this  subject  and  its  application  to  cause  and  effect,  to  identity, 
and  other  relations,  may  be  expediently  deferred  till  we  come  to  dis- 
cover the  nature  of  Comparison  and  Relation  under  Book  TH.,  The 
Comparative  Powers. 

It  should  be  noticed  that  a  great  many  of  our  associations  are 
carried  on  by  means  of  words.  These  words  are  primarily  associa- 
ted with  thoughts  and  things  by  the  Law  of  Contiguity.  But  each 
of  them  is  associated  with  other  things  which  are  brought  into  re- 
lation with  each  other  in  our  minds.  The  orator  is  enabled  to  carry 
on  his  speech  without  a  break,  the  thoughts  and  words  mutually 
suggesting  each  other.  We  may  often  notice  a  very  beautiful  play 
of  association  in  the  conversation  carried  on  by  a  company  of  intel- 
ligent and  witty  people,  each  starting  and  pursuing  suggestions  with 
their  numberless  correlations. 

I  am  here  giving  as  important  a  place  to  Association  as  those  who, 
following  David  Hume,  have  accounted  by  it  for  our  conviction  as  to 
cause  and  effect  and  the  deeper  principles  of  the  mind.  A  largo 
body  of  profound  philosophers  maintain  that  there  are  necessary 


162  THE  ASSOCIATION   OF  IDEAS. 

'  principles  in  the  mind,  such  as  that  requiring  us  to  believe  that  an 
effect  must  have  a  cause.  The  sc;hool  to  which  I  have  referred,  and 
which  I  may  call  the  School  of  Hume,  or  the  Empirical  School,  ex- 
plains this  by  invariable  association:  the  cause  and  effect  having 
ever  been  together,  we  cannot  think  of  the  one  without  also  thinking 
of  the  other.  Now,  it  is  undoubtedly  true  that  when  things  have 
been  invariably  together  in  the  mind  in  the  past,  the  one  will  recall 
the  other.  But  this  is  a  very  different  kind  of  necessity  of  convic- 
tion from  that  which  is  attached  to  fundamental  truth.  It  can  be 
shown  that  this  last  proceeds  from  self-evidence,  is  seen  to  be  in  the 
nature  of  the  thing  perceived,  and  is  perceived  by  the  reason.  We 
perceive  that  it  is  in  the  very  nature  of  the  cause  to  produce  its 
effect;  for  example,  of  fire  to  burn.  The  Law  of  Contiguity  may  pro- 
duce invariable  associations  and  make  one  thing  to  come  up  after 
another  in  the  mind,  but  cannot  produce  necessary  convictions  or 
judgments  pronounced   on  a  discovery  of  relations  in  the  nature  of 

'  the  things.^  It  is  now  acknowledged  that  mere  Contiguity  cannot 
give  us  a  priori  truth,  and  we  have  a  new  theory  that  this  is  gen- 
dered by  heredity,  of  which  all  I  have  to  remark  here  is,  that  it  may 
give  us  tendencies  of  thinking,  but  certainly  not  the  decisions  of 
reason.  But  while  Association  (and  heredity)  cannot  do  this,  it  may 
aid  our  comparative  or  judging  powers  by  bringing  before  the  mind 
the  ideas  on  which  they  pronounce  a  judgment.  I  have  shown  else- 
where ("Logic,"  pp.  166,  167)  that  Association  brings  together, 
more  especially  by  the  Laws  of  Correlation,  the  notions,  major, 
minor,  and  middle,  which  are  compared. 

1  See  an  admirable  history  of  the  discussions  in  regard  to  the  association 
of  ideas,  and  a  sifting  examination  of  the  attempt  to  account  by  this  for 
onr  necessary  principles,  in  La  Psychologic  de  I' Association,  par  LouiB 
Ferri. 


CHAPTER    IV. 

THE  BECOGNITIVE   POWEE. 
SECTION   I. 

ITS   NATURE. 

It  is  the  power  by  whicli  we  recognize  an  object  as 
having  been  before  us  in  time  past.  Let  us  bring  out  by- 
analysis  what  is  involved  in  this  capacity. 

(1.)  We  recognize  an  object.  —  In  this  there  is  more  than 
a  mere  image,  phantasm,  or  idea.  That  object  does  not 
come  under  our  notice  for  the  first  time  ;  we  recognize 
it  as  having  been  before  us  at  a. previous  date.  That 
object  may  have  been  a  material  one  perceived  by  the 
senses,  or  it  may  have  been  a  mental  state  or  conscious- 
ness, or  a  judgment  passed  or  a  feeling  experienced. 
Quite  as  frequently  it  may  have  been  an  event  occupy- 
ing more  or  less  time,  and  with  more  or  fewer  details. 

(2.)  We  recognize  the  object  as  having  been  before  us. 
—  Wc  not  only  remember  the  object ;  we  remember  it  as 
something  which  has  been  under  our  notice  before  ;  we 
remember  it  as  having  been  in  our  consciousness.  These 
two  elements  are  in  the  concrete  recollection,  and  we 
must  give  a  place  to  both  if  we  would  unfold  all  that  is 
in  the  mental  act.  All  our  recollections  are  memories  of 
ourselves  and  of  our  experiences.  This  analysis  may,  on 
the  first  hearing,  sound  as  if  too  subtle.  And  it  is  to  be 
acknowledged  that  in  the  ordinary  exercises  of  memory 
from  day  to  day  this  perception  of  ourselves  is  not  prom- 


154  THE  RECOGNITIVE   POWER. 

inent.  The  fact  is  that  though  it  is  in  all  our  memo- 
ries, we  are  usually  so  absorbed  with  the  event  that  it 
is  scarcely  noticed.  This  is  one  of  those  cases  in  which 
an  element  of  a  concrete  act  very  much  disappears  be- 
cause we  are  occupied  with  the  other  or  others.  Still 
this  element  is  always  present.  In  every  act  of  memory 
proper  (not  necessarily  of  the  phantasm)  we  know  the 
object  or  event  as  having  been  previously  before  us. 

3.  We  recognize  the  event  as  having  been  before  us 
in  Time  Past.  —  It  does  not  come  before  us  in  an  uncer- 
tain way  as  to  its  occurrence,  as  to  whether  it  is  past, 
present,  or  future.  We  regard  it  as  past  ;  we  believe  it 
to  have  happened  in  time  past.  In  proof,  we  appeal  to 
consciousness,  personal  and  universal.  This  introduces 
us  to 

SECTION  n. 

THE   FAITH   ELEMENT. 

In  all  these  reproductive  acts  we  believe  in  the  previ* 
ous  existence  and  previous  knowledge  of  an  event  which 
may  not  now  be  present,  but  was  before  us  in  the  past. 
Here,  then,  is  a  primitive  faith,  as  distinguished  from 
primitive  cognition  in  which  the  object  is  present. 

We  draw  the  distinction  between  faith  and  siglit.  It 
is  a  loose  and  popular  one,  but  it  may  be  made  a  philo- 
sophic one  between  primitive  knowledge  and  primitive 
faith.  In  the  former  the  object  is  present  and  known  ; 
in  the  latter  it  is  not  present,  but  is  believed  in.  This  is 
the  distinction  between  the  simple  Cognitive  Faculties 
on  the  one  hand  and  the  Reproductive  on  the  other.  In 
the  one,  the  object  is  present  and  is  known  as  present ; 
in  the  other,  the  object  is  not  present,  but  is  recognized 
as  having  been  present  at  a  previous  time  ;  in  short, 
is  not  presented  but  re-presented.     There  would  be  no 


THE   FAITH   ELEMENT.  156 

propriety  in  saying  of  our  immediate  sense-perceptions 
and  consciousnesses  that  they  are  acts  of  faith,  for  the 
objects  are  before  us  and  known.  When  I  receive  a 
blow  from  an  instrument  and  suffer  pain,  it  would  imply 
a  confusion  of  thought  and  an  abuse  of  language  to  say 
that  I  had  a  belief  in  the  instrument  and  the  pain  ;  we 
are  giving  an  adequate  expression  of  our  experience  only 
when  we  affirm  that  we  know  the  objects.  But  it  would 
be  proper  in  narrating  the  occurrence  afterward  to  de- 
clare that  I  believe  in  the  existence  of  such  an  instru- 
ment, and  that  I  suffered  from  the  blow  inflicted  by  it. 

We  have  now  come  to  a  belief,  in  a  rudimentary  form, 
in  the  absent  and  unseen.  This  is  an  essential  part  of 
our  nature.  It  is  a  most  important  element  in  our  con- 
stitution, standing  next  to  our  power  of  primitive  cogni- 
tion, and  in  some  respects  higher  than,  and  certainly 
prior  to,  our  discursive  or  reasoning  capacity.  There  are 
some  "who  insist  on  our  proving  everything.  They  forget 
that  as  we  can  prove  only  by  means  of  premises  we  must 
at  length  come  to  premises  which  cannot  be  proven,  and 
which  must  be  assumed  as  being  either  primitive  cogni- 
tions or  primitive  faiths. 

If  it  be  asked  why  we  believe  in  the  trustworthiness 
of  memory,  the  answer  is  that  it  is  a  case  in  which  we 
are  not  entitled  to  ask  the  why.  There  are  cases  in 
which  the  mind  feels  itself  entitled,  nay,  required,  to 
ask  a  reason.  If  I  am  required  to  give  credence  to  a 
story  about  Romulus  being  suckled  by  the  wolf,  I  de- 
mand proof.  But  I  need  no  mediate  evidence  to  con- 
vince me  that  I  am  seated  on  a  chair  as  I  write  this,  or 
that  before  writing  I  had  thought  over  all  these  subjects. 
I  feel  that  any  proof  proffered  would  not  add  to  the 
strength  of  my  conviction  ;  would,  in  fact,  be  an  imper- 
tinence.     The  evidence  —  if  we  can  call  it  so,  and  I 


156  THE  RECOGNITIVE  POWER. 

think  we  can  so  call  it  —  is  not  mediate,  but  is  in  the 
very  cognition  ov  a  belief  in  the  thing  itself,  and  is 
called  immediate,  not  simply  because  it  is  in  the  percep- 
tion, but  is  in  the  thing  perceived.  I  require  proof  when 
it  is  asserted  that  the  dog  star  is  a  certain  distance  from 
the  earth  ;  and  when  I  get  it  I  am  satisfied.  But  I  am 
equally  satisfied,  without  external  proof,  that  I  cannot 
rise  from  my  chair  and  go  to  another,  without  passing 
through  the  space  between.  In  all  investigation,  if  we 
follow  it  sufficiently  far,  we  come  to  such  primitive 
rocks.  He  vtho  would  go  deeper  down  is  trying  to  get 
beneath  the  foundation.  He  who  would  go  farther  back 
is  trying  to  mount  higher  than  the  beginning.  Setting 
out  with  these  primitive  truths  we  find  their  accuracy 
confirmed,  but  not  primarily  established,  by  our  experi- 
ence. We  remember  the  hills  and  valleys  where  we 
were  brought  up,  and  on  returning  after  many  years  we 
find  them  corresponding  to  our  recollections. 

The  faith  before  us  is  of  a  primitive  kind,  but  it  is 
the  beginning  of  those  faiths  in  the  past  and  in  the 
future,  in  time  and  in  eternity,  which  mount  so  high  and 
carry  us  above  and  beyond  our  world  and  our  experi- 
ence. We  should  find  pleasure  as  we  advance  in  noti- 
cing the  origin  and  natuie  of  these  higher  beliefs.  Mean- 
while we  are  invited  to  notice  how  faith  comes  in.  So 
far  as  the  initial  faith  is  concerned  it  is  a  primitive 
belief  in  objects  primitively  known,  —  it  is  the  atmos- 
phere that  compasses  the  solid  earth. 

SECTION  III. 

THE   IDEA    OF   TIME. 

We  see  how  this  idea  arises.  Every  event  remem- 
bered is  remembered  as  having  happened  in  time  past. 


THE  IDEA   OF   TIME.  157 

This  gives  us  the  idea  in  the  concrete  —  "  an  event  hav- 
ing happened  in  past  time."  We  can  now,  by  a  process 
of  abstraction,  separate  the  time  from  the  event,  and  we 
have  the  abstract  idea  of  time.  As  we  do  so  we  are  sure 
that  the  time  is  quite  as  much  a  reality  as  the  event  that 
has  occurred  in  it.  I  am  sure  that  I  was  at  a  particular 
dinner  party,  but  I  am  quite  as  sure  that  it  was  at  a  cer- 
tain past  time.  If  it  is  asked,  What  sort  of  reality  has 
it  ?  I  answer  that  it  has  the  reality  which  I  am  led  to 
believe  it  to  have.  It  is  not  known  by  me  as  the  sub' 
stances  mind  and  body  are,  as  having  potency.  But 
it  is  known  as  having  being  and  independence  of  ray 
observation  of  it.  It  is  known  as  a  thing  in  which  events 
occur,  and  that  the  time  is  a  reality  quite  as  much  as 
the  events  occurring  in  it. 

We  are  now  iii  a  position  to  criticise  the  opinions  as  to 
time  which  have  been  entertained  by  distinguished  phi- 
losophers. Locke,  as  we  have  seen  (p.  81:),  derived  all 
our  ideas  from  sensation  and  reflection.  He  evidently 
saw  that  he  could  not  get  the  idea  of  time  from  sensa- 
tion and  so  drew  it  from  reflection.  We  reflect,  he  says, 
on  the  succession  of  events  and  thus  get  the  idea  of  time. 
But,  I  ask,  how  can  we  know  that  there  is  a  succession 
except  in  time,  of  which  therefore  we  have  some  knowl- 
edge. To  know  one  event  as  following  another  is  already 
to  have  an  idea  of  time.  Here,  as  in  so  many  other 
cases  in  which  metaphj^sicians  are  endeavoring  to  sim- 
plify the  operations  of  the  mind,  they  are  simply  as- 
suming what  they  profess  to  prove  or  explain. 

At  this  point  Locke  has,  I  think,  been  successfully 
met  by  those  who  maintain  that  the  mind  itself,  in  its 
exercise  upon  the  materials  supplied  by  the  senses  and 
consciousness,  is  a  source  of  ideas.  Leibnitz  and  Kant 
showed  that  the  idea  of  time  could  not  be  had  from  the 


168  THE  RECOGNITIVE  POWER. 

experience  of  sense  or  consciousness.  But  their  theories 
on  this  subject  are  as  objectionable  as  those  of  Locke. 
Proceeding  on  the  principle  that  the  ideas  of  space  and 
time  could  not  be  had  from  sense,  Leibnitz  made  them 
mere  relations  between  objects  and  these  relations  given 
by  the  mind.  Kant,  proceeding  on  the  same  principle, 
represents  them  as  being  forms  given  to  the  objects  by 
the  mind,  thus  making  them  entirely  subjective.  Fichte 
followed,  and  argued  that  if  the  mind  could  create  space 
and  time,  it  might  also  generate  the  objects  discerned  in 
space  and  time,  and  this  led  to  a  skeptical  idealism,  be- 
lieving in  ideas,  but  not  in  things.  The  way  to  meet  all 
this  is  to  insist  that  space  and  time  are  realities  such  as 
we  are  led  to  regard  them  by  our  instinctive  cognitions 
and  beliefs. 

SECTION    IV. 


The  phrase  is  used  at  some  times  in  a  wider  and  at 
other  times  in  a  more  limited  sense.  Locke  employs  it  to 
signify  Retention.  In  our  common  literature  it  is  used 
in  a  larger  sense  to  denote  all  those  reproductive  acts 
implying  belief.  There  are  three  of  the  reproductive 
powers  implied  in  the  exercise  of  memory  thus  under- 
stood :  there  is  (1)  The  Retentive  Power ;  (2)  The 
Recalling  Power ;  and  (3)  The  Associative  Power.  But 
the  essential  element  is  (4)  The  Recognitive  Power. 
Wherever  there  is  recognition  there  is  memory,  and 
wherever  there  is  no  recognition  it  cannot  be  said  that 
there  is  recollection. 

It  is  a  curious  circumstance  that  adults  are  not  able  to 
remember  their  infantine  experience.  But  that  infants 
remember  is  shown  by  the  circumstance  that  they  are 
gathering    experience,   for   instance,   learning   distances 


IMPROVEMENT  OF  THE  MEMORY.  159 

and  forms,  which  they  could  not  do  without  recollection. 
Carpenter  mentions  the  case  of  a  person  who  remem- 
bered in  after  life  what  had  passed  when  only  a  year 
and  a  half  old.  We  may  not  be  able  to  find  out  all  the 
reasons  of  this  forgetfulness  of  young  children.  It  may 
arise  from  a  want  of  tenacity  in  the  brain,  but  also  from 
the  want  of  correlations  to  call  up  ideas.  That  memory 
fails  in  old  age  seems  to  arise  from  the  want  of  healthy 
brain  concurrence.  It  fails  first  in  names,  because  they 
are  arbitrary  and  have  not  numerous  correlations  to  call 
them  up. 

SECTION  V. 

IMPROVKMENT   OF   THE   MEMORY. 

It  is  to  be  improved  by  taking  advantage  of  the  Laws 
of  Association,  Primary  and  Secondary. 

We  should  use  the  Secondary  Laws  (see  p.  135). 
Objects  and  occurrences  are  more  apt  to  be  remembered 
when  they  are  in  accordance  with  our  Native  Tastes 
and  Inclinations.  There  are  boys  who  can  attain  and 
retain  a  lesson  in  classics  who  cannot  be  made  to  keep 
hold  of  their  mathematics,  to  which  they  have  an  aver- 
sion ;  and  vice  versa^  there  are  some  who  never  forget 
their  mathematical  demonstrations  who  lose  their  classics 
in  a  short  time  after  they  have  laboriously  learned  them. 
There  are  persons  who,  because  of  the  intense  interest 
they  feel  in  it,  can  remember  a  hundred  lines  of  poetry 
after  reading  them  once  or  twice,  whereas  there  are 
others  on  whom  verse  produces  no  impression,  but  who 
never  forget  the  facts  detailed  in  prose  histories  ;ind 
books  of  science.  In  the  practical  professions  and  busi- 
ness of  life,  we  find  people  cherishing  what  they  have  a 
taste  for,  and  letting  all  else  pass  away  as  being  utterly 
indifferent  to  them.     In  listening  to  discourses  or  con- 


160  THE   RECOGNITIVE   POWER. 

versation,  or  in  reading  a  book,  the  things  are  apt  to 
cling  to  us  that  have  an  affinity  witli  us,  and  others  are 
driven  away.  So  far  as  this  law  is  concerned  we  cannot 
directly  influence  our  memories  by  an  act  of  will ;  but 
we  can  do  so  indirectly.  First,  we  can  call  forth  into 
active  operation,  and  we  can  cherish,  those  tastes  which 
we  wish  to  cultivate,  by  associating  them  with,  and  bind- 
ing them  to,  ends  in  which  we  are  interested.  Some  who 
have  no  i*elish  for  pure  mathematics  can  be  made  to  study 
them  eagerly  when  they  discover  their  important  prac- 
tical applications.  Many  have  entered  on  their  profes- 
sional work  with  no  great  ardor  for  it,  but  they  are  led  to 
pursue  it  eagerly  as  they  find  that  it  brings  them  wealth 
or  reputation.  Secondly,  in  all  circumstances  let  us  try 
to  connect  what  we  wish  to  learn  and  retain  with  some 
of  our  native  inclinatifuis.  Many  a  boy  is  made  to  learn 
cheerfully  an  irksome  task  by  his  love  to  his  father  or 
his  teacher.  Some  of  us  who  have  no  pleasure  in  learn- 
ing foreign  languages  have  acquired  them  industriously, 
because  of  the  treasures  of  literature  and  knowledge 
which  are  laid  up  in  them. 

We  should  in  all  cases  make  use  of  the  laws  of  Energy. 
What  we  bestow  no  thought  upon  is  sure  to  be  forgotten  ; 
as,  having  been  neglected  when  it  presented  itself,  it  will 
never  appear  again.  By  turning  a  subject  round  and 
round  in  our  reflections  we  may  so  make  it  our  friend 
that  it  will  visit  us  frequently.  We  may  accomplish  the 
same  end  by  associating  what  we  wish  to  recollect  with 
feeling  of  some  kind.  By  showing  that  we  love  an  object,, 
it  will  be  encouraged  to  make  its  appearance  before  us. 
We  remember  the  scenes  of  our  childhood  which  called 
forth  feeling  pleasant  or  painful,  whereas  things  unim- 
portant, or  it  may  be  important,  but  which  were  indiffer- 
ent to  us,  are  lost  forever.    It  is  on  this  principle  mainly 


IMPROVEMENT    OF   THE  MEMORY.  161 

that  a  teacher,  who  is  beloved  by  his  pupils  and  makes 
them  feel  an  interest  in  their  work,  is  able  to  impress 
himself  and  the  subjects  of  study  so  deeply  on  their 
minds  that  they  can  never  be  effaced.  But  it  is  by  the 
third  law  of  energy,  that  of  will,  that  we  have  the  most 
effective  control  over  our  memories.  We  have  all  to  re- 
gret that  so  much  of  the  instruction  which  we  received  in 
our  younger  years  is  lost  because  we  could  not  be  made 
to  attend  to  it.  On  the  other  hand  attention  puts  a 
stamp  on  all  to  which  it  is  strongly  directed,  and  this 
gives  it  a  continued  currency. 

But  WG  may  also  turn  the  Primary  Laws  of  Associa- 
tion to  profitable  use;  as,  for  instance,  the  Law  of  Con- 
tiguity. We  may  repeat  what  we  wish  to  lemember, 
and  then  any  part  of  the  train,  any  word  used  to  ex- 
press it,  will  bring  up  the  rest.  Children  retain  for 
life  those  rhymes  or  passages  of  Scripture  which  they 
committed  (to  use  a  common  but  expressive  phrase) 
to  memory.  If  we  wish  to  keep  an  object  or  event  in 
perpetual  remembrance  let  us  tie  it  to  something  which 
is  sure  to  come  up  ;  say  our  work,  or  study,  or  devotion,  to 
a  particular  place  or  hour  of  the  day.  If  we  are  anxious 
to  be  reminded  of  a  particular  duty  at  a  certain  time  or 
place,  let  us  associate  it  with  the  persons  or  objects  we 
are  then  and  there  likely  to  meet.  We  have  to  buy  an 
article  in  a  certain  shop  ;  we  have  a  message  to  carry,  or 
an  intimation  to  make  to  a  certain  person.  Let  us  so 
connect  the  things  that  when  we  come  to  the  place,  or 
meet  the  individual,  what  we  wish  to  do  is  immediately 
suggested.  We  may  so  use  the  law  of  coexistence  as  to 
have  what  we  wish  constantly  to  remember,  —  say  our 
business  or  our  duties  to  God  and  our  neighboi',  our  devo- 
tions and  our  alms,  —  associated  with  our  habitual  train, 
80  that  they  come  up  at  all  times.  Some  have  their 
11 


162  THE  RECOGNITIVE  POWER. 

thoughts  and  feelings  so  regulated  that  at  any  time  ejac- 
ulatory  prayer  is  ready  to  rise  to  God,  and  their  hands 
are  ever  ready  to  supply  relief  to  the  poor. 

Thoughtful  minds  may  also  use  profitably  the  Pri- 
mary Law  of  Correlation.  They  may,  as  things  pass 
under  their  observation,  note  how  they  are  related  to 
other  things,  and  then  these  other  things  will  recall 
them.  If  we  are  in  the  habit  of  noticing  causes,  the 
causes  will  ever  after  suggest  the  effects  and  the  effects 
the  causes,  and  we  shall  walk  in  this  world  as  in  a  con- 
catenated cosmos.  Again,  those  who  are  in  the  habit  of 
putting  all  things  under  heads  or  arranging  them  into 
classes,  of  course  by  their  points  of  resemblance  will  find 
the  law  of  similarity  making  the  particulars  bring  up 
the  species,  and  the  species  suggesting  individuals.  In 
the  higher  professions,  such  as  law  and  medicine,  the 
knowledge  acquired  is  so  assorted  that  it  is  available  at 
all  times,  and  comes  out  often  in  unexpected  ways,  on 
great  emergencies  and  on  small.  The  scientific  man  has 
his  knowledge  and  notions  arranged  as  in  a  museum,  so 
that  he  can  lay  his  hands  on  what  he  wishes  at  any  time 
and  place,  and  put  every  new  thing  that  presents  itself 
in  its  proper  compartment.  The  historian  lays  up  events 
under  heads  as  the  naturalist  does  his  specimens  in 
drawers.  The  very  poet,  though  his  domain  is  more 
like  a  garden,  or  a  wide-spread  landscape,  is  ever  gath- 
ering up  images  which  he  is  ready  to  plant  in  their 
proper  place  for  aesthetic  effect.  A  number  of  very 
eminent  men  intellectually  are  spoken  of  by  Hamilton 
and  others  as  possessing  great  memories,  —  as  Julius 
Caesar  Scaliger,  Ben  Jonson,  Grotius,  Pascal,  Leibnitz, 
Euler,  Niebuhr,  Mackintosh,  Macaulay ;  of  whom  it 
should  be  observed  that  their  memories  proceeded  by 
correlation  which  had  been  observed  by  their  under- 
Btan  dings. 


DOES  THE  MEMORY   DECEIVE   US?  163 

SECTION    VI. 

DOES   THE   MEMORY   DECEIVE   US? 

The  answer  is  that  our  original  and  intuitive  memo- 
ries never  do,  but  our  acquired  memories  may. 

The  memory,  using  the  phrase  in  a  loose  sense,  does 
seem  liable  to  mistakes.  Two  people,  both  honest,  give 
somewhat  different  accounts  of  a  transaction  which  they 
have  both  witnessed.  We  have  all  found  our  recollec- 
tions set  aside  by  facts  well  established.  In  order  to 
explain  the  facts  and  save  our  constitution  from  the 
charge  of  deceit,  we  have  to  draw  a  distinction  in  regard 
to  our  memories,  similar  to  that  drawn  (see  above,  p. 
29)  between  our  original  and  acquired  perceptions. 
There  are  intuitive  perceptions  which  do  not  and  cannot 
err.  But  we  are  ever  making  additions  to  them  by 
guesses  and  inferences  meant  to  fill  up  chasms,  and  make 
our  vague  and  confused  memories  clear  and  consistent. 
We  have  seen  how  much  there  is  of  inference  in  our 
ordinary  sense  -  perceptions ;  we  see  a  shape  before  us 
in  a  wood  or  in  the  twilight,  and  we  conclude  that  it  is  a 
man  or  a  ghost,  whereas  it  is  only  a  rock  or  a  tree  seen 
under  a  certain  aspect.  In  like  manner  our  recollection 
of  an  occurrence  is  dim,  with  breaks  in  it,  and  we  pro- 
ceed to  fill  up  the  figure,  and  make  it  full  and  consist- 
ent with  itself,  only,  it  may  be,  to  make  it  inconsistent 
with  facts. 

Our  original  memories,  having  the  sanction  of  our 
constitution  and  of  God  who  gave  it  to  us,  seem  to  be  con- 
fined within  very  stringent  limits.  No  man  can  remem- 
ber the  whole  time,  and  all  that  has  occurred  in  it,  be- 
tween the  present  and  a  distant  event  in  the  past.  He 
cannot  cast  a  retrospective  glance  on  the  instant  over 
the  whole  line  between  this  instant  and  any  given  time 


164  THE  RECOGNITIVE  POWER. 

mentioned,  —  say  the  time  when  he  went  to  school,  or 
began  business,  or  when  a  sister  died,  —  any  more  than 
he  can  tell  by  the  eye  the  distance  of  that  mountain 
peak.  A  man  is  asked  how  many  years  it  is  since  his 
father  died.  He  cannot  endways  see  the  continuous  line 
and  measure  its  length,  and  he  has  to  inquire,  to  calcu- 
late, and  his  reckonings  may  be  wrong.  It  was  before  I 
took  a  particular  journey,  or  before  I  max'ried,  —  the 
eras  which  he  regards  as  landmarks,  which  he  thinks  he 
has  fixed  most  certainly,  but  which  he  has  marked  erro- 
neously on  his  life  chart.  Whether  we  are  seeking  to 
have  the  exact  facts  for  ourselves,  or  narrate  them  to 
others,  in  all  cases,  but  especially  in  witness-bearing,  or 
where  our  words  are  apt  to  be  quoted  to  the  weal  or 
woe  of  others,  let  us  be  conscientiously  on  our  guard 
against  going  beyond  our  memories  proper,  and  of  add- 
ing a  form  or  coloring  which  may  be  a  perverted  one, 
formed  by  the  fancy  under  the  influence  of  a  prejudiced 
heart. 


CHAPTER  V. 

THE  POWER   OF   COMPOSITION. 
SECTION   I. 

ITS   NATURE. 

It  puts  in  new  forms  and  dispositions  what  had  been 
previously  before  the  mind.  First,  it  contains  a  dimin- 
ishing power ;  having  seen  a  human  being,  I  can  picture 
a  Lilliputian  —  children  are  greatly  interested  in  the  feats 
of  Tom  Thumb.  Secondly,  there  is  an  enlarging  power; 
having  seen  a  man,  I  can  imagine  a  giant,  and  be  enter- 
tained with  his  exploits.  Thirdly,  there  is  a  separating 
power;  having  seen  a  church,  I  can  have  an  image  of  the 
steeple  apart  from  the  rest  of  the  building.  Fourthly, 
there  is  a  compounding  power ;  having  seen  a  bull  and  a 
bird,  I  can  put  the  wings  of  the  bird  on  the  body  of  the 
bull  and  fashion  a  winged  bull  such  as  we  see  on  the 
sculptured  slabs  of  Nineveh. 

I  place  this  faculty  among  the  Reproductive  Powers, 
for,  far  reaching  as  it  is,  it  cannot  produce  anything  of 
which  it  has  not  had  the  elements  in  a  previous  experi- 
ence. Its  power  is  always  constructive,  never  creative. 
"  This  shows,"  says  Locke,  "  man's  power  to  be  much 
the  same  in  the  material  and  intellectual  worlds,  the 
materials  in  both  being  such  as  he  hath  no  power  either 
to  make  or  destroy."  A  man  born  blind  cannot  have 
the  most  distant  idea  of  colors,  nor  can  the  man  bom 
deaf  have  the  dimmest  idea  of  music.     But  when  a  per- 


166  THE  POWER   OF   COMPOSITION. 

son  has  seen  colors,  though  he  should  afterwards  like 
Homer  or  Milton  be  smitten  with  blindness,  he  may  be 
able  to  combine  them  in  unnumbered  ways,  all  different 
from  that  in  which  they  are  mixed  in  existing  objects, 
natural  or  artificial.  Give  one  possessed  of  fine  musical 
ear  a  knowledge  of  sounds,  and  he  may  be  able  to  dis- 
pose them  so  as  to  produce  symphonies  such  as  were 
never  heard  before,  but  which,  as  people  now  listen  to 
them,  make  the  soul  to  swell  or  sink  with  their  swelling 
or  sinking  notes. 

It  is  the  office  of  the  memory  to  reproduce  what  has 
been  previously  before  the  mind  in  the  form  in  which  it 
first  appeared,  and  with  the  belief  that  it  has  been  be- 
fore the  mind  in  time  past.  The  imagination  (of  which 
composition  is  the  main  element)  also  reproduces,  but  it 
reproduces  in  new  forms,  and  is  not  accompanied  with 
any  belief  as  to  past  experience.  Both  are  reflective  of 
objects  which  have  been  before  the  mind ;  but  the  one 
may  be  compared  to  the  mirror,  which  reflects  what  is 
before  it  in  its  proper  form  and  color ;  whereas  the 
other  may  be  likened  to  the  kaleidoscope,  which  reflects 
it  in  an  infinite  variety  of  new  shapes  and  dispositions. 
Each  of  these  has  its  peculiar  endowments  by  which  it 
is  enabled  to  accomplish  its  specific  end.  The  imagina- 
tion does  not,  like  the  memory,  disclose  realities  ;  but  on 
the  other  hand,  the  memory  cannot  enliven  by  the  varied 
pictures  which  are  presented  by  the  imagination.  Each 
is  beautiful  in  its  own  place,  provided  it  is  kept  in  its 
own  place,  and  the  one  is  not  put  in  the  room  of  the  other ; 
as  was  said  severely  of  an  author  that  he  resorted  to  his 
imagination  for  his  facts  and  his  memory  for  his  figures. 
The  one  is  represented  by  observations,  experiments, 
records,  and  annals ;  the  other  by  allegories,  myths, 
statues,  paintings,  and  poems.     The  one,  as  Bacon  has 


THE  IMAGINATION.  167 

remarked,  is  peculiarly  the  faculty  of  the  historian,  the 
other  of  the  poet  and  the  cultivator  of  the  fine  arts. 


SECTION  It 

THE    IMAGINATION. 

There  is  implied  in  order  to  its  exercise  (1)  The  Re- 
tentive and  (2)  The  Associative  Power.  All  its  images 
come  from  cognitions  and  ideas  which  have  been  before 
the  mind,  and  are  retained.  They  always  rise  up  ac- 
cording to  the  Laws  of  Association  of  Ideas.  The  im- 
aginations always  come  up  according  to  the  Laws  of  Con- 
tiguity and  Correlation  ;  and  the  peculiar  character  of 
them  in  the  individual  is  mainly  determined  by  the 
Secondary  Laws  of  Native  Taste  and  Energy. 

The  fancies  of  some  follow  more  specially  the  Laws  of 
Contiguity,  and  things  unconnected  with  each  other 
come  up  often  to  delight  and  amuse  us  by  their  liveli- 
ness, by  their  unexpected  appearance,  by  their  variety^ 
and  their  curious  juxtapositions.  As  they  involve  no 
intellectual  strain  we  are  apt  to  follow  these  in  our 
moods  of  dreaminess,  or  when  we  are  seeking  rest  and 
relaxation.  Novels  are  specially  fitted  to  gratify  this 
propensit}^,  and  are  resorted  to  by  those  who  do  not  wish 
to  be  troubled  with  much  thinking,  and  by  men  of  busi- 
ness when  they  wish  a  cessation  from  toil.  In  the  case 
of  the  former  the  constant  indulgence  in  fiction  is  apt 
to  produce  a  frivolous  turn  of  mind,  more  and  more  indis- 
posed to  exertion  of  any  kind.  In  the  case  of  the  latter 
the  effect  may  be  soothing  if  kept  within  proper  limits, 
and  the  reading  not  carried  too  far  into  the  night.  But 
when  the  scenes  are  sensational  and  persons  dwell  often 
or  too  long  among  them,  there  may  be  as  much  wasting 
of  the  nervous  power  as  even  by  business  or  study ;  and 


168  THE   POWER   OF  COMPOSITION. 

the  issue,  a  restlessness  and  dissatisfaction.  The  end  ac- 
complished by  poetry,  especially  narrative  and  descrip- 
tive, is  much  the  same :  to  occupy  the  mind  with  exciting 
images.  But  there  is  this  difference  between  the  novel, 
at  least  the  common  novel,  and  poetry,  that  the  latter 
is  usually  more  condensed,  and  therefore  requires  more 
thought  and  brings  before  us  a  great  many  correlations 
of  sound  and  sense.  The  consequence  is  that  poetry  is 
much  better  fitted  than  the  novel  to  produce  mental 
elevation,  and  is  less  liable  to  the  abuse  of  excess. 

The  imaginations  of  others  are  more  disposed  to  fol- 
low the  Law  of  Correlation,  to  pursue  things  that  are 
connected  with  each  other.  In  our  highest  poetry  and 
poetical  prose,  we  are  called  to  dwell  among  interesting, 
and  it  may  be  subtle  and  far  ranging  analogies,  and  among 
harmonies  often  between  material  and  spiritual  things, 
between  earthly  and  heavenly  things.  Then  there  may 
be  imagination,  as  has  often  been  remarked,  exercised, 
and  this  legitimately  in  science.  In  such  cases  the  mind 
proceeds  according  to  the  associative  principle  of  corre^ 
lation,  and  follows  connections  in  reason,  and  in  the 
nature  of  things  between  one  department  of  nature  and 
another. 

But  the  Secondary  Laws  have  the  main  influence  in 
determining  the  peculiar  character  of  our  imaginings. 
Our  Tastes,  native  or  acquired,  are  shown  as  readily  and 
certainly  by  the  character  of  our  spontaneous  musings  as 
by  anything  else ;  more  so  than  even  by  our  business 
pursuits,  which  may  often  be  determined  by  external  cir- 
cumstances. Thus  we  may  give  a  direction  to  our  fan- 
cies by  associating  what  we  wish  to  revive  in  old  forms, 
or  in  new,  with  exercises  of  intellect,  of  feeling,  and  of 
will.  Viewed  in  this  light  we  see  that  we  have  a  greater 
power  over  our  imaginations  than  we  might  at  first  im. 


THE  IMAGINATION.  169 

agine.  "What  we  think  about  and  feel  an  interest  in 
and  attend  to  habitually  will  use  the  privilege  of  a 
friend  and  often  visit  us  when  wished  for  and  when  not 
wished  for.  In  fact  we  can  to  some  extent  determine 
the  character  of  our  imaginations,  good  or  evil,  as  we  do 
those  of  our  associates,  by  the  friendships  we  form  and 
the  preferences  we  show. 

In  imagination  there  is 

(1.)  A  Picturing  Power. — A  mother,  let  me  suppose, 
looks  out  of  the  window  of  her  dwelling  to  take  one 
other  look  of  a  beloved  son  setting  out  to  a  distant  land 
that  he  may  there  earn  an  honorable  independence.  It 
is  a  fond  look  which  she  takes,  for  she  knows  that  on  the 
most  favorable  supposition  a  long  time  must  elapse  be- 
fore she  can  again  meet  with  him.  She  continues  to  fix 
these  tear -filled  eyes  upon  him  till  a  winding  of  the  road 
takes  him  out  of  the  field  of  view.  When  he  has  turned 
that  corner  she  can  no  longer  be  said  to  perceive  him 
with  her  bodily  eyes,  but  the  mind's  eye  can  still  con- 
template him.  For  often,  often,  does  she  imagine  to  her- 
self that  scene  with  all  its  accompaniments.  Often  does 
the  memory  recall  that  son  at  the  particular  turn  of  the 
road,  on  a  particular  day,  rainy  or  sunshiny,  in  a  particu- 
lar dress  passing  round  that  corner,  and  as  she  does  so 
the  whole  is,  as  it  were,  visible  before  her.  In  this  the 
senses  are  no  longer  exercised,  but  the  memory,  and  the 
imagination  may  also  begin  its  appropriate  work.  For 
not  only  will  the  mother  recall  the  scene,  as  it  occurred, 
—  there  will  be  times  when  it  becomes  more  ideal,  when 
one  part  will  be  separated  from  another,  and  when  the 
parts  selected  for  more  particular  contemplation  will  be 
mixed  with  other  circumstances ;  and  in  various  forms  it 
will  appear  in  her  night  dreams  and  reappear  in  her  day 
dreams,  and  she  will  picture  that  son  toiling  and  strug- 


170  THE   POWER   OF  COMPOSITION. 

gling  in  that  distant  land  to  which  he  has  gone,  rising 
from  one  step  of  aggrandizement  to  another,  and  return- 
ing at  last  by  that  same  road  and  round  that  same  corner 
to  this  same  home;  and  she  will  picture  herself  as  receiv- 
ing him,  not  as  she  parted  with  him,  with  mingled  fears 
and  hopes,  but  with  one  unmingled  emotion  of  joy,  while 
he  showers  upon  her  a  return  for  that  affection  which 
she  so  profusel}'-  lavished  on  him  in  his  younger  years. 

(2.)  A  Constructive  Power.  —  For  the  mother  not  only 
pictured  the  past,  but  put  it  in  new  shapes  and  combi- 
nations. Like  the  prisms,  the  imagination  divides  that 
which  passes  through  it  into  rich  rainbow  colors. 

This  last  is  the  highest  property  of  the  imagination. 
It  is  one  of  the  characteristics  of  genius.  It  is  a  constit- 
uent of  every  kind  of  invention.  The  particular  charac- 
ter of  the  invention  will  be  determined  by  the  native 
tastes  and  predilections,  and  by  the  acquired  habits  of 
the  individual.  If  a  person  have  a  strong  tendency  to 
observe  forms,  the  imagination  will  call  up  the  shapes 
in  new  combinations,  and  if  his  talent  is  cultivated  he 
may  become  a  painter.  If  he  be  disposed  to  admire  the 
beauties  of  nature,  new  landscapes  will  be  apt  to  ap- 
pear before  his  mind  made  up  of  dispositions  of  objects 
which  he  has  witnessed  in  real  scenes.  When  an  indi- 
vidual has  a  mechanical  turn,  the  imagination  will  ever 
be  prompting  him  to  devise  some  new  instrument  or 
engine;  or,  if  his  taste  be  architectural,  new  buildings 
will  rise  in  vision  before  him.  If  he  be  a  man  of  great 
flow  of  sensibility,  he  will  ever  be  picturing  himself  or 
others  —  a  mother,  sister,  or  wife  —  in  circumstances  of 
joy  or  sorrow,  and  at  times  weaving  an  imaginary  trag- 
edy or  comedy,  in  which  he  and  his  friends  are  actors. 

This  is  a  gift  which  like  every  other  can  be  cultivated. 
I  know,  indeed,  that  genius  is  in  itself  a  native  endow- 


THE  IMAGINATION.  171 

ment.  No  teacher  can  communicate  it  in  return  for 
a  fee,  nor  can  it  be  acquired  by  industry ;  but  unless 
pains  be  taken,  it  is  apt  to  run  wild  and  become  useless 
or  even  injurious.  It  admits  of  direction  and  improve- 
ment. The  painter  who  would  rise  to  eminence  in  his 
art  must  study  the  finest  models  and  fill  his  mind  with 
scenes  natural  and  historical  such  as  he  would  wish  to 
represent.  The  poet  who  would  awaken  his  genius  must 
live  and  breathe  and  walk  in  the  midst  of  objects  and 
incidents  such  as  he  would  embody  in  verse.  In  science 
discovery  is  commonly  the  reward  reaped  by  a  power  of 
invention  wdiich  has  been  trained  and  disciplined.  It  is 
seldom  that  discoveries  are  made  by  pure  accident.  It 
was  (according  to  the  common  story)  on  the  occasion  of 
Newton's  seeing  an  apple  fall  to  the  ground  that  the 
thought  flashed  on  him,  This  apple  is  drawn  to  the  earth 
by  the  same  power  which  holds  the  moon  in  her  orbit. 
Bat  how  many  people  had  seen  an  apple  fall  without 
the  law  of  universal  gravitation  being  suggested  to  them  I 
The  thought  arose  in  a  mind  long  trained  to  accurate 
observation  and  disciplined  to  the  discovery  of  mathe- 
matical relations.  It  was  as  he  gathered  up  the  frag- 
ments of  a  crystal  which  had  fallen  from  his  hands  to 
the  ground  that  the  Abbe  Haiiy  discovered  the  princi- 
ples which  regulate  the  crystallization  of  minerals ;  but 
the  idea  occurred  to  one  who  was  addicted  to  such  inves- 
tigations, and  who  was  in  fact  studying  forms  at  the 
very  time.  On  falling  in  with  the  bleached  skull  of  a 
deer  in  the  Hartz  forest,  Oken  exclaimed,  "  This  is  a 
vertebrate  column,"  and  started  those  investigations 
which  have  produced  a  revolution  in  anatomy ;  but  the 
view  presented  itself  to  one  meditating  on  the  very  sub- 
ject, and  in  a  sense  prepared  for  the  discovery. 

Before  leaving  this  bead  it  is  proper  to  state  that  the 


172  THE  POWER   OF   COMPOSITION. 

imagination  can  picture  and  put  into  new  forms  not  only 
the  material,  but  the  mental  and  the  spiritual  worlds. 
The  mother,  in  the  illustration  employed,  can  not  only 
picture  her  son  in  new  scenes,  she  can  picture  the  feel- 
ings which  he  may  be  supposed  to  cherish  in  these  scenes, 
or  the  feelings  with  which  she  herself  may  contemplate 
him.  Milton,  culling  what  was  fairest  from  the  land- 
scapes and  gardens  which  had  passed  under  his  view, 
describes  in  his  Paradise  Lost  an  Eden  fairer  than  any 
scene  now  to  be  found  on  our  globe  ;  but  as  a  still  higher 
and  far  more  successful  achievement  of  his  genius  he 
contrives,  by  combining  and  intensifying  all  the  evil 
propensities  of  human  nature,  —  pride  and  passion,  am- 
bition and  enmity  to  holiness,  — to  set  before  us  Satan, 
contending  with  the  holy  angels  and  with  God  himself. 

The  poet,  the  dramatist,  the  novelist,  dispose  the  ele- 
ments of  human  nature  in  all  sorts  of  new  shapes  and 
collocations,  in  order  to  pie;  se,  to  rouse,  or  instruct  us. 
If  I  am  not  mistaken,  poetry  and  fiction  generally  must 
be  led  to  deal  more  and  more,  in  every  succeeding  age, 
with  the  motives,  the  sentiments,  and  passions  of  man- 
kind, —  not  indeed  in  a  scientific  or  metaphysical  man- 
ner, but  in  their  actual  concrete  forms.  This  is  a  field 
very  much  overlooked  by  the  ancients  and  left  over  to 
the  moderns  to  cultivate.  If  we  leave  out  of  account 
the  Book  of  Job  and  other  portions  of  the  Hebrew 
Scriptures,  and  the  plays  of  ^schylus  and  other  Greek 
dramatists,  we  shall  find  very  little  of  the  deeper  moods 
and  feelings  of  humanity  in  the  poetry  of  the  ancients. 
Tlie  poet  who  would  catch  the  spirit  of  modern  times 
must  unfold  the  workings  of  the  soul  within  as  the  an- 
cients exhibited  the  outward  incident. 

I  believe  that  the  visible  and  tangible  machinery  used 
in  times  past  by  the  poets  is  waxing  old,  and  must  soon 


THE  IMAGINATION.  173 

vanish  away.  We  can  relish  to  some  extent  the  alkision 
to  harps  and  lyres,  to  nyinphs  and  muses,  to  Minerva 
and  Apollo,  by  the  Greeks  and  Romans,  for  they  were 
sincere  in  the  use  which  they  made  of  them.  But  it  is 
only  indicative  of  the  barrenness  of  his  genius  to  find  the 
modern  youth  talking  of  awaking  his  lyre  when  perhaps 
he  never  saw  a  lyre  in  his  life  ;  invoking  the  Muses  when 
he  believes  that  there  are  no  Muses  ;  and  appealing  to 
Apollo  when  he  knows  full  well  that  Apollo  cannot  help 
him.  Poetry,  in  order  to  be  true  poetry,  must  come  up 
welling  from  a  true  heart.  There  was  nothing  artificial 
in  the  use  of  their  mythology  by  Greeks  and  Romans, 
but  there  must  always  be  something  unnatural,  not  to 
say  affected,  in  the  employment  of  it  by  the  moderns. 
The  old  apparatus  of  the  poets  is  now  gone  and  gone 
forever,  and  I  for  one  scarcely  regret  it.  But  will  the 
scientific  character  of  the  age,  which  believes  in  astron- 
omy and  geology,  and  not  at  all  in  ghosts  or  fairies, 
admit  of  any  new  machinery  sensible  and  bodily?  I 
doubt  much  if  it  will,  for  there  would  be  no  sincerity  in 
the  use  of  such,  and  sincerity  must  be  an  element  in  all 
genuine  poetry. 

Is  the  modern  then  precluded  from  the  exercise  of  the 
poetic  imagination  ?  Is  the  time  of  great  poets,  as  some 
would  hint,  necessarily  passed  away  ?  I  for  one  believe 
no  such  thing.  But  I  am  convinced,  at  the  same  time, 
that  poets  who  would  do  in  these  times  what  the  older 
poets  did  in  their  days  must  strike  out  a  path  different 
from  that  in  which  the  ancients  walked.  The  novelist 
has,  it  seems  to  me,  already  entered  on  this  path.  He 
has  described  human  nature,  or  at  least  certain  moods  of 
it,  —  its  passions,  foibles,  consistencies,  and  inconsisten- 
cies, —  and  so  his  works  have  had  a  popularity  in  these 
latter  days  far  exceeding  that  of  the  poet.     Poets  are 


174  THE  POWER   OF  COMPOSITION. 

read  very  much  in  proportion  as  they  deal  with  man- 
kind. The  poetry  of  Shakespeare  ranks  higher,  I  sus- 
pect, in  this  age,  than  that  of  Milton,  and  this  mainly  be- 
cause the  former  exhibits  human  nature  in  almost  every 
variety  of  attitude.  Most  of  the  greater  poets  of  tlie  past 
age  delighted  to  daguerreotype  the  states  of  the  human 
soul,  —  whether  in  its  moods  of  quiet  communion  with 
nature  like  Wordsworth,  or  in  the  wider  excursions  of  the 
imagination  like  Coleridge  and  Shelley,  or  in  the  deeper 
workings  of  passion  like  Byron.  Even  when  bringing 
before  us  the  objective  world  they  often  expose  it  to  the 
view  by  a  flash  of  light  struck  by  the  inward  feeling 
awakened.  Tennyson,  in  his  "  In  Memoriam,"  gives  us 
little  else  than  the  feeling  of  sorrow  for  the  departed 
projecting  itself  on  the  external  world  and  darkening  it 
with  its  shadow. 

I  believe  that  as  the  world  advances  in  education  and 
civilization,  and  entertains  a  greater  number  and  vari- 
ety of  thoughts  on  all  subjects,  and  is  susceptible  of  an 
ever-increasing  range  of  emotions,  poetry  must  take  up 
the  theme,  the  workings  of  human  nature,  and  make  this 
its  favorite  subject.  This  is  a  mine  of  which  the  ancients 
gathered  only  the  surface  'gold,  but  which  is  open  to 
any  one  who  has  courage  and  strength  to  penetrate 
into  its  depths  and  thence  to  draw  exhaustless  treasures. 
As  the  most  inviting  of  all  topics  to  the  poet  I  would 
point  to  the  human  soul,  to  its  convictions,  its  doubts,  to 
its  writhings  and  struggles,  in  boyhood  and  manhood,  in 
idleness  and  in  bustle,  to  its  swaying  motives,  its  desper. 
ate  fights,  and  its  crowning  conquests. 


THE  USE   OF  THE  IMAGINATION.  175 

SECTION   III. 

THE   USE   OE    THE   IMAGINATION. 

The  imagination  has  a  noble  purpose  to  serve.  It 
widens  the  horizon  of  the  mental  vision.  It  fills  the 
empty  space  which  lies  between  the  things  that  are 
seen,  and  it  gives  a  peep  into  the  void  which  lies  beyond 
the  visible  sphere  of  knowledge.  It  thus  expands  the 
mind  by  expanding  the  boundary  of  thought,  and  by 
opening  an  ideal  outside  the  real  world.  It  is  also  fitted 
to  extend  the  field  of  enjoyment.  It  peoples  the  waste, 
and  supplies  society  in  solitude ;  it  enlarges  the  diminu- 
tive and  elevates  the  low  ;  it  decorates  the  plain  and 
illumines  the  dim.  The  cloud  in  the  sky  is  composed 
of  floating  particles  of  moisture,  and  would  be  felt  as 
dripping  mist  if  we  entered  it,  but  how  beautiful  does  it 
look  when  glowing  with  the  reflected  light  of  the  setting 
sun  !  Such  is  the  power  of  fancy  in  gilding  what  would 
otherwise  be  felt  to  be  dull  and  disagreeable.  The 
imagination  can  do  more  than  this :  it  can  elevate  the 
sentiments,  and  the  motive  power  of  the  mind,  by  the 
pictures,  fairer  than  any  realities,  which  it  j^resents. 

This  faculty  has  [)urposes  to  serve  even  in  science. 
"  The  truth  is,"  says  D'Alembert,  "  to  the  geometer 
who  invents,  imagination  is  not  less  essential  than  to  the 
poet  who  creates."  To  the  explorer  in  physical  science 
it  suggests  hypotheses  wherewith  to  explain  phenomena, 
and  which,  when  duly  adjusted,  and  verified  by  facts, 
may  at  last  be  recognized  as  the  very  expression  of  the 
laws  of  nature.  There  was  a  fine  fancy  in  exercise,  as 
well  as  a  great  sagacity,  when  the  poet  Goethe  discov- 
ered that  all  the  appendages  of  plants  —  sepals,  petals, 
stamens,  and  pistils  —  are  after  the  leaf  type,  and  thus 
laid  a  foundation  on  which  scientific   botany  has  been 


176  THE  POWER   OF   COMPOSITION. 

built.  In  every  department  of  science  this  faculty 
bridges  over  chasms  between  discovered  truths,  and 
dives  into  depths  in  search  for  pearls,  and  opens  mines 
in  which  precious  ores  are  found. 

May  we  not  go  farther  and  affirm  that  it  is  of  service 
in  the  practical  affairs  of  life,  —  always  when  subordi- 
nated to  the  judgment.  Not  only  does  it  supply  devices 
to  the  inventive  warrior,  such  as  Napoleon  Bonaparte, 
and  suggest  means  of  reaching  unknown  countries  to 
the  adventurer  by  sea  or  land :  it  helps  the  farmer  to 
discover  new  modes  of  tilling  his  land,  and  discloses  new 
openings  in  trade  to  the  merchant. 

Need  I  add  that  it  is  the  power  which  constructs  those 
scenes  which  are  embodied  in  the  fine  building  or  statue, 
which  are  made  visible  to  us  on  the  canvas  of  the  paint- 
er, or  which  the  poet  enshrines  in  verse,  —  as  we  have 
seen  shrubs  and  flowers  imbedded  in  amber.  Generally, 
those  writings  are  the  most  widely  diffused  and  univer- 
sally popular  which  address  this  imaging  power  of  the 
mind.  At  the  head  of  this  pictorial  school  is  Sir  Walter 
Scott,  and  after  him  we  have  a  whole  host  of  writers  in 
history  and  in  fiction.  These  authors  do  not  content 
themselves  with  relating  the  bare  incident :  they  set 
before  us  the  actors,  with  all  their  accompaniments  of 
locality,  dress,  manner,  and  attitude.  This  pictorial 
power  illumines  the  book  of  knowledge,  and  fills  it  as  it 
were  with  prints  and  figures,  which  allure  on  the  reader 
from  page  to  page,  without  feeling  his  work  to  be  a  toil. 

This  faculty  too  has  the  power  of  awakening  senti- 
ment deep  and  fervent.  And  here  it  will  be  needful  to 
call  attention  to  the  circumstance  that  the  very  mental 
picture  or  representation  of  certain  objects  —  say  our- 
selves or  others  in  circumstances  of  happiness  or  pain  — 
is  fitted  to  call  forth  feeling.     The  novel-reader  rejoices 


THE   USE   OF  THE   IMAGINATION.  177 

over  the  success  of  the  hero  of  the  tale  as  he  would  over 
the  triumphs  of  a  living  man,  and  weeps  over  the  mis- 
fortunes of  the  heroine  as  he  would  over  a  scene  of  ac- 
tual misery.  To  account  for  this  it  is  alleged  by  some 
(as  by  D.  Stewart)  that  there  is  a  momentary  belief  in 
the  reality  of  the  object.  I  am  not  sure  that  it  is  neces- 
sary to  resort  to  this  supposition.  It  is  the  very  mental 
picture  or  apprehension  of  persons  exposed  to  happiness 
or  sutfering  which  calls  forth  the  emotion,  and  this  with 
or  without  a  positive  belief.  No  doubt  if  unbelief  come 
in  it  will  arrest  the  play  of  fancy  and  feeling ;  and  unbe- 
lief will  always  interpose  when  the  picture  is  unlike 
any  reality,  and  hence  it  is  needful  for  the  novelist,  the 
tragedian,  and  the  actor  to  make  the  characters  and  ac- 
companiments  as  natural  as  possible,  lest  the  doubting 
judgment  appear  to  scatter  the  images  and  with  them 
the  emotions.  But  if  unbelief  does  not  lay  a  cold  in- 
terruption on  the  process,  it  seems  to  me  that  the  men- 
tal representations,  as  they  flow  on,  will  of  themselves 
draw  along  the  corresponding  train  of  feelings,  whether 
of  joy  or  sorrow,  of  sympathy  or  indignation. 

According,  then,  to  the  cherished  imagination,  so  will 
be  the  prevailing  sentiment.  Low  images  will  incite 
mean  motives,  and  sooner  or  later  land  the  person  who 
indulges  in  them  in  the  mire.  Lustful  pictures  will 
foment  licentious  passions,  which  will  hurry  the  individ- 
ual, when  occasion  presents  itself  and  permits,  into  the 
commission  of  the  deed  —  to  be  remembered  ever  after, 
as  Adam  must  have  looked  back  upon  the  plucking  of 
the  forbidden  fruit.  Vain  thoughts  will  raise  around 
the  man  who  creates  them  a  succession  of  empty  shows, 
in  which  he  walks  as  the  statues  of  the  gods  are  carried 
in  the  processions  before  pagan  temples.  The  perpetual 
dwelling  on  our  supposed  merits  will   produce  a  self- 

12 


178  THE  POWER  OF  COMPOSITION. 

righteous  character,  and  a  proud  and  disdainful  mien 
and  address.  Gloomy  thoughts  will  give  a  downward 
bend  and  look,  and  darken  with  their  own  hue  the 
brightest  prospects  which  life  can  disclose.  Envious  or 
malignant  thoughts  will  sour  the  spirit  and  embitter  the 
temper,  and  ever  prompt  to  words  of  insinuation,  iimu- 
endo,  or  disparagement,  or  to  deeds  of  sulkiness,  of  ma- 
lignity, or  revenge. 

This  is  the  darker  side.  On  the  other  side,  when  the 
fancy  is  devoted  to  its  intended  use,  it  helps  to  cheer,  to 
elevate,  to  ennoble  the  soul.  It  is  in  its  proper  exercise 
when  it  is  picturing  something  better  than  we  have  ever 
yet  realized,  some  grand  ideal  of  excellence,  and  sets  us 
forth  on  the  attainment  of  it.  All  excellence,  whether 
earthly  or  spiritual,  has  been  attained  by  the  mind 
keeping  before  it  and  dwelling  upon  the  ideas  of  the 
great,  the  good,  the  beautiful,  the  grand,  the  perfect. 
The  tradesmen  and  mechanic  attain  to  eminence  by  their 
never  allowing  themselves  to  rest  till  they  can  produce 
the  most  finished  specimens  of  their  particular  work. 
The  painter  and  sculptor  travel  to  distant  lands  that 
they  may  see  and,  as  it  were,  fill  their  eye  and  mind 
with  the  most  beautiful  models  of  their  arts.  Poets 
have  had  their  yet  undiscovered  genius  awakened  into 
life  as  they  contemplated  some  of  the  grandest  of  na- 
ture's scenes  ;  or  as  they  listened  to  the  strains  of  other 
poets,  the  spirit  of  poetry  has  descended  upon  them,  as 
the  spirit  of  inspiration  descended  upon  Elisha  while  the 
minstrel  played  before  him.  The  soldier's  spirit  has 
been  aroused,  more  than  even  by  the  stirring  sound  of 
the  war  trumpet,  by  the  record  of  the  courage  and  hero- 
ism of  other  warriors.  The  fervor  of  one  patriot  has 
been  created  as  he  listened  to  the  burning  words  of " 
another  patriot,  and  many  a  martyr's  zeal  has  been  kin- 


THE   IDEA   OF  THE   INFINITE.  179 

died  at  the  funeral  pile  of  other  martyrs.  In  this  way 
fathers  have  handed  down  their  virtues  to  their  children, 
and  parents  have  left  their  offspring  a  better  legacy  in 
their  example  than  in  all  their  wealth,  and  those  who 
could  leave  them  nothing  else  have  in  this  example  left 
them  the  very  richest  legacy.  In  this  way  the  good  men 
of  one  age  have  influenced  the  characters  of  the  men  of 
another,  and  the  deeds  of  those  who  have  done  great 
achievements  have  lived  far  longer  than  those  who  per- 
formed them,  and  been  transmitted  from  one  generation 
to  another. 

SECTION   IV. 

THE    IDEA    OF    THE    INFINITE. 

The  imagination  is  strikingly  illustrative  both  of  the 
strength  and  weakness  of  the  human  intellect.  There 
are  stringent  limits  laid  on  its  exercises.  All  the  images 
of  the  fancy  are  only  reproductions  of  what  we  have 
experienced.  In  using  its  materials  the  mind  can  en- 
large them  to  an  infinite  extent,  but  stretch  itself  as  it 
may  the  image  is  still  finite.  In  expanding  the  image  in 
space  it  is  incapable  of  doing  more  than  representing  to 
itself  a  volume  with  a  distinct  spherical  boundary.  In 
following  its  contemplation,  in  time  the  image  is  of  a 
line  of  great  length,  but  terminating  in  a  point  at  each 
end.  But  where  the  mind  is  held  in  by  its  weakness 
there  it  exhibits  its  strength.  It  can  image  to  itself  only 
this  bounded  sphere,  this  line  cut  at  both  ends,  but  it  is 
led,  or  rather  impelled,  to  believe  in  vastly  more.  At 
the  point  where  it  is  obliged  to  stop  it  takes  a  look,  and 
that  look  is  into  infinity.  Standing  as  it  were  on  the 
shore  of  a  vast  ocean  it  can  see  only  so  much,  but  it  is 
constrained  to  believe  that  there  is  a  region  beyoijd  that 


180  THE  POWER   OF  COMPOSITION. 

horizon  to  which  no  limits  can  be  set.  It  is  here  that  I 
find  the  origin  and  genesis  of  such  an  idea  and  belief  as 
the  mind  can  entertain  of  infinity. 

We  are  approaching  a  profound  subject.  It  is  not 
easy  to  sound  its  depths.  It  was  long  before  I  was  able 
to  attain  to  anything  like  clear  ideas  on  the  subject. 
I  have  pondered  it  for  successive  hours  only  to  find 
it  shrouded  in  thicker  clouds.  On  the  one  hand  I 
found  the  more  profound  philosophers  of  the  Continent 
of  Europe,  such  as  Anselni,  Descartes,  Leibnitz,  and 
Kant,  giving  this  idea  a  high,  indeed  the  highest,  place 
in  their  systems.  In  coming  back  from  flights  in  com- 
pany with  these  men,  to  inquire  of  Locke,  Hamilton,  and 
British  philosophers  what  they  make  of  this  idea,  I  find 
their  views  meagre  and  unsatisfactory,  for  the  idea  of  the 
infinite  according  to  them  is  a  mere  impotency  in  re- 
spect of  the  mental  faculty  and  a  negation  as  to  the  idea 
reached.  But  if  we  can  entertain  no  such  idea,  how  can 
we  speak  of  it  ?  If  it  be  a  mere  impotency,  how  do  we 
feel  ourselves  called  on  to  clothe  the  Divine  Being  with 
this  perfection  ? 

Feeling  as  if  I  needed  to  find  it  somewhere  I  pro- 
ceeded in  the  truly  British  method,  that  is,  the  induc- 
tive, to  inquire  how  does  such  an  idea  of,  or  belief  in, 
the  infinite  as  the  mind  can  entertain  rise  within  us, 
and  what  is  its  precise  nature?  The  imagination  can 
add  and  add;  so  far  we  have  the  large,  the  indefinite. 
Thus  in  respect  of  time  (of  which  we  have  seen  we  have 
an  idea  by  the  Recognitive  Power)  it  can  add  millions 
of  years  and  ages  to  millions  of  years  and  ages.  In 
respect  of  extension  or  space  (which  it  knows  by  the 
senses)  it  can  add  millions  and  billions  and  trillions  of 
leagues  to  millions  and  billions  and  trillions  of  leagues, 
and  then  multiply  the  results  by  each  other  millions  of 


THE   IDEA    OF   THE  INFINITE.  181 

billions  and  trillions  of  times.  But  when  it  lias  finished 
this  process  it  has  not  infinity,  it  has  merely  immensity. 
If,  when  we  had  gone  thus  far,  time  and  space  were  to 
cease,  we  should  still  have  the  finite,  —  a  very  wide 
finite,  —  but  not  the  infinite.  But  it  is  a  law,  and  it  is 
a  conviction  of  the  mind,  that  even  when  we  have  gone 
thus  far  we  are  necessitated  to  believe  that  to  whatever 
other  point  we  go  there  must  be  something  beyond. 
Such  seems  to  me  to  be  the  true  character  of  the  mind's 
conviction  as  to  the  Infinite. 

The  Infinite,  as  apprehended  by  man,  may  be  regarded 
as  having  two  elements,  or  rather  may  be  viewed  under 
two  aspects. 

I.  The  Infinite  is  always  something  beyond  our  widest 
image  and  conception.  The  mind  strives  to  form  an 
image  of  infinity,  but  as  it  does  so  it  is  always  baffled 
and  thrown  back.  It  can  easily  picture  a  sphere  as  wide 
as  that  of  the  earth's  movement  around  the  sun,  and  try 
to  image  that  vast  orbit  in  which  our  sun  moves.  Let 
us  stretch  the  imagination  thus  far,  as  far  as  the  most 
distant  point  which  the  largest  telescope  reaches,  as  far 
as  the  star  which  requires  thousands  or  hundreds  of 
thousands  of  years  to  send  its  rays  across  the  immeasur- 
able regions  which  intervene.  Are  we  then  at  the  far- 
thest limits  of  existence  ?  Can  we  believe  that  we  are  ? 
Suppose  we  were  carried  to  such  a  point ;  would  we 
not  stretch  out  our  hand,  confidently  believing  that  there 
is  a  space  beyond,  or  if  our  hand  be  hindered,  it  must  be 
by  a  body  occupying  space  ?  We  are  necessitated  to  be- 
lieve that  when  we  have  gone  thus  far  we  are  not  at  the 
outer  edge  of  the  universe  of  being ;  nay,  though  we 
were  to  multiply  this  distance  by  itself  ten  thousand 
millions  of  times,  till  the  imagination  feels  dizzy  and 
reeling,  still,  after  we  have  reached  that  point,  we  are 


182  THE   POWER   OF   COMPOSITION. 

constrained  to  believe  that  there  must  be  something  be- 
yond. This  seems  to  me  to  be  the  law  of  the  mind  in 
reference  to  infinity  ;  it  not  only  cannot  set  limits  to 
existence,  it  is  constrained  to  believe  that  there  are  no 
limits.  "  If  the  mind,"  says  John  Foster,  "  were  to 
arrive  at  the  solemn  ridge  of  mountains  which  we  may 
fancy  to  bound  creation,  it  would  eagerly  ask,  Why  no 
farther  ?     What  is  beyond  ?  " 

II.  The  Infinite  is  such  that  nothing  can  be  added  to 
it.  We  may  farther  say  that  nothing  can  be  taken  from 
it.     It  is  The  Perfect.  ^ 

All  that  we  know  by  our  highest  faculties  and  in  our 
most  elevated  moods  is  seen  to  be  limited,  and  in  this 
sense,  and  it  may  be  others,  it  is  imperfect.  But  amid 
all  the  excellencies  and  evils  before  it  it  is  ever  looking 
out  for  that  which  has  no  deficiencies.  So  whatever  is 
known  to  us  as  great  and  good  we  stretch  to  the  utter- 
most, and  combine  all  in  one ;  and  would  unite  Almighty 
Power,  Omnipresence,  Eternit}^  Omniscience,  Bound- 
less Goodness,  and  Spotless  Holiness  all  in  this  Per- 
fect One.  The  mind  is  made  to  acknowledge  that  it 
cannot  compass  all  this,  but  is  expanded  in  the  endeavor, 
to  comprehend  it.  The  imagination  loses  itself  as  in  a 
forest ;  but  we  feel  all  the  while  that  we  are  safe,  wher- 
ever we  are,  —  in  the  immensity  of  space  or  time  or 
eternity,  in  this  world  or  in  worlds  unknown.  I  have 
been  speaking  of  our  rudimentary  faith  in  the  unseen 
and  the  distant ;  we  have  now  come  to  a  faith  in  what 
cannot  be  transcended.  We  have  now  a  grand  ideal  set 
before  us  to  contemplate,  and  though  like  the  pole-star  it 
is  far  above  us,  it  is  there  to  guide  us.  We  are  ever 
drawn  towards  it,  and  as  the  asymptotes  of  the  hyper- 

1  After  working  out  this  twofold  aspect  I  found  that  I  had  been  antici 
pated  by  Aristotle.    See  Intuitions  of  the  Mind,  Part  ii.  B.  ii. 


THE  IDEA  OP  THE  INFINITE.  18S 

bola  ever  draw  nearer,  while  they  never  touch  each  other, 
so  we  would  ever  approach  that  model  which  is  yet 
ever  above  us. 

This  second  aspect  of  infinit}'-  iis  the  grander  and  ths 
more  important,  'i'his  was  the  feature  brought  into 
prominence  by  Anselm,  the  great  mediseval  philoeopher 
and  theologian.  It  was  the  one  fixed  on  by  DescarteS) 
the  founder  of  the  French  philosophy,  and  by  LetbnitK, 
the  originator  of  the  German  philosophy.  We  find  the 
germ  of  it,  ready  to  be  expanded,  in  the  minds  of  all 
men,  if  we  go  sufficiently  far  down.  We  strike  upon  it 
in  all  our  deeper  reasonings  in  regard  to  Divine  things. 
The  profound  philosophers  just  named  argued  from  the 
very  existence  of  such  an  idea  in  the  soul,  that  there 
must  be  a  corresponding  object,  and  that  therefore  God 
exists.  Whatever  may  be  thought  of  the  validity  of 
this  argument  it  is  certain  that  there  is  such  a  rudiment- 
aiy  idea  in  the  mind,  and  that  it  is  ever  prompting  us  to 
seek  after  God,  and  enabling  and  constraining  us  when 
we  get  evidence  of  the  existence  of  God,  say  from  the 
traces  of  design  in  nature,  to  clothe  him  with  infinity. 

This  second  aspect  of  the  infinite  is  not  inconsistent 
with  the  first,  but  is  complementary  to  it.  Combine  the 
two  and  we  have  such  a  view  as  man  can  entertain  of 
the  infinite.  By  the  one  aspect  he  is  humbled  under  a 
sense  of  inferiority  ;  by  the  other  he  is  elevated  as  he 
gazes  on  it.  Certainly,  man's  idea  of  the  infinite  is  not 
an  adequate  one ;  he  is  made  to  feel  so  as  he  entertains 
it.  But  it  is  not  a  negative  idea,  or  a  mere  im potency,  as 
Locke  and  the  British  school  of  philosophy  bold  ;  it  has 
positive  elements  in  it,  and  man  is  never  more  exalted 
than  when  he  is  seeking  to  rise  to  it.  The  belief  may 
be  regarded  as  an  intuitive  one ;  in  our  deeper  moods 
we  find  ourselves  gazing  on  it.    It  is  a  necessary  one ;  we 


184  THE  POWER  OF   COMPOSITION. 

cannot  be  made  to  think  otherwise.  It  is,  in  a  sense,  a 
universal  conviction.  No  doubt  the  widest  ima^e  formed 
by  human  beings,  as  by  children  and  savages,  must  be 
very  confined  ;  but,  narrow  or  wide,  we  feel  that  there 
must  always  be  something  beyond.  Pursue  any  line 
suflBciently  far  and  we  find  it  going  out  into  infinity. 
So  true  is  it,  as  Shelley  says,  — 

"  The  feeling  of  the  boundless  bounds 
All  feeling,  as  the  welkin  doth  the  world." 

But  the  infinite  which  the  mind  is  led  to  believe  in 
is  not  an  abstraction.  It  is  a  belief  in  something  infi- 
nite. So  when  "  the  visible  things  of  God  "  declare  that 
there  is  an  intelligent  being,  the  author  of  all  the  order 
and  pui'pose  in  the  universe,  the  mind  is  constrained  to 
believe  that  he  is  infinite,  and  clothes  him  with  "  eternal 
power  and  godhead." 

SECTION  V. 

THE   ABUSE    OF   IMAGINATION. 

While  the  imagination  is  fitted,  when  properly  reg- 
ulated, to  widen  the  field  of  enjoyment  and  elevate  the 
standard  of  character,  there  is  no  faculty  which  is  more 
liable  to  run  into  error  and  excess,  and  in  the  end  to 
land  the  possessor  in  more  helpless  and  hopeless  misery. 
If  I  had  the  genius  of  Plato,  and  were  able  like  him 
to  clothe  my  thoughts  in  instructive  myths,  I  would 
represent  the  God  who  created  us  as  allotting,  when 
he  distributed  to  the  faculties  their  proper  spheres  of 
dominion,  to  the  understanding  the  land,  to  the  passions 
the  sea,  and  to  the  imagination  the  air.  While  each  has 
a  kingdom  put  under  it,  it  is  all  the  while  under  a  higher 
Sovereign  to  whom  it  must  give  account,  and  who  is 
rerady  to  punish   if  his  eternal  laws  are  contravened. 


THE  ABUSE   OF  IMAGINATION.  185 

And  there  may  be  transgression,  not  only  in  erroneous 
judgments,  not  only  in  violent  passions,  but  in  the  imag- 
ination wandering  into  forbidden  regions.  No  sin  brings 
its  punishment  with  it  more  certainly  in  this  life  than  a 
disordered  imagination.  This  kingdom  of  the  air,  just 
as  much  as  the  land  or  the  sea,  has  had  laws  impressed 
on  it.  If  the  land  is  not  properly  cultivated  it  will 
yield  no  crops ;  if  the  sea  is  not  skilfully  navigated  it 
will  speedily  dash  the  vessel  in  pieces  ;  but  the  air  is,  if 
possible,  a  still  more  perilous  element  to  wield  than  the 
earth  or  the  ocean,  and  the  penalties  which  it  inflicts 
are  still  more  fearful ;  when  it  is  offended  it  raves  in  the 
storm,  it  mutters  in  the  thunder,  it  strikes  with  its  light- 
ning. How  melancholy  have  been  the  lives  of  vei-y 
many  of  those  who  have  possessed  in  a  high  degree  that 
fearful  gift,  the  gift  of  genius !  One  who  was  himself 
possessed  of  high  genius  was  wont  to  thank  God,  be- 
cause he  could  discover  no  traces  of  poetical  talent  in 
his  son  ;  and  when  we  read  the  lives  of  the  poets  we 
can  understand  how  Sir  Walter  Scott — for  it  is  to  him 
I  refer  —  should  have  felt  in  this  way.  For  in  how 
many  cases  has  their  elevation  above  other  men  been  like 
that  of  Icarus :  they  have  mounted  into  a  region  purer 
and  more  fervent  than  this  cold  earth,  only  to  find  their 
wings  melted  by  the  heat,  and  their  flight  followed  by  a 
melancholy  fall.  This  is  a  gift  which  young  men  of 
noble  aspirations  are  especially  apt  to  covet,  and  if  they 
possess  the  gift  by  all  means  let  them  use  it;  if  God 
has  given  them  wings  let  them  soar.  But  let  them 
know  that  if  the  gift  is  abused,  in  very  proportion  to  the 
greatness  of  the  endowment  will  be  the  greatness  of  the 
punishment.  For  in  this  unreal  world  of  their  own  cre- 
ation, they  will  meet  with  horrid  ghosts  and  spectres 
(also  of  their  own  creation,  but  not  on  that  account  the 


186  THE   POWER   OF  COMPOSITION. 

less  dreadful),  ready  to  inflict  vengeance  upon  those  who 
have  made  an  unhallowed  entrance  into  forbidden  regions. 
The  miseries  of  men  of  genius  have  been  the  deepest  of 
all  miseries,  for  the  imagination  has  intensified  all  the 
real  evils  which  they  suffer,  and  added  many  others, 
giving  a  greater  blackness  to  the  darkness  in  which  they 
are  enveloped,  and  a  keener  edge  to  the  weapons  by 
which  they  are  assailed. 

The  youthful  mind,  especially  if  of  a  vain  or  of  a  pen- 
sive and  indolent  turn,  is  much  tempted  to  exercise  the 
imagination  in  castle  building.  Speaking  of  his  younger 
years.  Sir  James  Mackintosh  tells  us :  "  Reading  of 
Echard's  Roman  History  led  me  into  a  ridiculous  habit 
from  which  I  shall  never  be  totally  free.  I  used  to 
fancy  myself  Emperor  of  Constantinople,  I  distributed 
oflBces  and  provinces  among  my  school  fellows.  I  loaded 
my  favorites  with  dignity  and  power,  and  I  often  made 
the  objects  of  my  dislike  feel  the  weight  of  my  imperial 
resentment.  I  carried  on  the  series  of  political  events 
in  solitude  for  several  hours.  I  resumed  them  and  con- 
tinued them  from  day  to  day  for  months.  Ever  since  I 
have  been  more  prone  to  building  castles  in  the  air  than 
most  others.  My  castle  building  has  always  been  of  a 
singular  kind.  It  was  not  the  anticipation  of  a  sanguine 
disposition  expecting  extraordinary  success  in  its  pur- 
suits. My  disposition  is  not  sanguine,  and  my  visions 
have  generally  regarded  things  as  much  unconnected 
with  my  ordinary  pursuits  and  as  little  to  be  expected 
as  the  crown  of  Constantinople  at  the  school  of  Fortrose. 
These  fancies  indeed  have  never  amounted  to  convic- 
tion, or,  in  other  words,  they  have  never  influenced  my 
action,  but  I  must  confess  they  have  often  been  as  steady 
and  of  as  regular  occurrence  as  conviction  itself,  and  that 
they  have  sometimes  created  a  little  faint  expectation, 


THE  ABUSE   OF  IMAGINATION.  187 

or  state  of  mind,  in  which  my  wonder  that  they  should 
be  realized  would  not  be  so  great  as  it  naturally  ought  to 
be."  A  person  of  a  very  different  temperament,  Cliar- 
lotte  Elizabeth,  describes  herself  as  falling,  in  her  younger 
years,  into  a  similar  habit,  which,  however,  she  speedily 
corrected.  ^'  I  acquired  that  habit  of  dreamy  excursive- 
ness  into  imaginary  scenes  and  among  unreal  person- 
ages, which  is  alike  inimical  to  rational  pursuits  and 
opposed  to  spiritual-mindedness."  I  have  remarked  in 
my  own  experience  (for  I  confess  to  have  been  an  archi- 
tect of  these  airy  fabrics)  that  all  such  "  vain  thoughts  " 
sooner  or  later  end  in  sadness ;  —  after  the  height  comes 
the  hollow,  deep  in  proportion  to  the  previous  elevation ; 
after  the  flow  comes  the  ebb  to  leave  us  stranded  on  a 
very  sandy  waste.  The  mind,  when  it  awakes  as  it 
must,  revenges  itself  for  the  dreams  by  which  it  has 
been  deceived.  For  the  time  they  enfeeble  the  will, 
they  relax  the  resolution,  they  dissipate  the  energies,  and 
they  issue  in  chagrin,  disappointment  with  the  world, 
ennui,  and  not  unfrequently  bitterness  of  spirit.  The 
indulgence  in  such  weak  imaginations  is  like  the  sultry 
heat  of  a  summer  day  :  it  is  close  and  disagreeable  at  the 
time,  and  it  is  ever  liable  to  be  broken  in  upon  by  thun- 
ders and  lightnings.  These  gathering  clouds,  though 
they  may  seem  light  and  floating,  will  sooner  or  later 
pour  forth  tempests.  They  that  sow  the  wind  shall 
reap  the  whirlwind.  If  the  imagination  is  unlawfully 
engaged  when  building  palaces  among  the  gilded  clouds, 
it  is  equally  misemployed  when,  under  the  guidance  of  a 
melancholy  spirit,  it  is  hewihg  out  sepulchres  in  desolate 
and  gloomy  places,  and  peopling  them  with  ghosts  and 
demons  to  keep  the  timid  from  going  out  into  the  dark 
night  when  duty  calls.  "  Sufficient  unto  the  day  is  the 
evil  thereof.'" 


188  THE  POWEB   OF   COMPOSITION. 

This  vain  spirit  is  mucli  fostered  and  increased  by  the 
excessive  novel-reading  of  the  age.  I  am  not  to  enter 
upon  a  crusade  against  the  perusal  of  works  of  fiction.  I 
should  be  sorry  to  debar  the  child  from  Robinson  Crusoe 
or  the  Pilgrim's  Progress,  or  to  prevent  any  one  from  be- 
coming acquainted  with  the  character  of  Jeanie  Deans 
or  of  Uncle  Tom.  But  I  do  protest  against  that  constant 
and  indiscriminate  perusal  of  romances  in  which  so  many 
indulge.  In  the  use  of  such  stimulants  I  am  an  advocate, 
not  of  total  abstinence,  but  of  temperance  principles.  I 
am  not  afraid  of  an  occasional  stimulant,  provided  people 
be  not  constantly  drinking  of  it,  and  provided  they  be 
taking  solid  food  in  far  larger  measure.  For  every  novel 
devoured  let  there  be  eaten  and  digested  several  books 
of  history  or  of  biography,  several  books  of  voyages  and 
travels,  several  books  of  good  theology,  with  at  least  a 
book  or  two  of  science  or  of  philosophy.  If  you  exam- 
ine some  of  our  circulating  libraries  you  will  find  a  very 
different  proportion,  —  far  more  works  of  fiction  than  of 
truth.  Those  who  consume  this  garbage  will  soon  take 
its  hue,  —  as  the  worm  takes  the  color  of  the  green 
herbage  on  which  it  feeds  ;  and  the  furnishing  of  their 
mind  becomes  excessively  like  the  circulating  libraries 
to  which  I  have  referred,  —  a  strange  medley,  in  which 
the  vain  and  fictitious  occupies  a  far  larger  place  than 
the  real  and  the  solid. 

Nor  let  it  be  urged  by  the  novel-reader  that  as  he  does 
not  believe  the  tale  when  he  reads  it,  so  no  evii  can 
possibly  arise  from  the  perusal  of  it.  For  the  mischief 
may  be  produced  altogether  independent  of  his  belief  or 
his  disbelief.  It  arises  from  the  impressions  produced, 
unconsciously  produced,  unconsciously  abiding,  and  un- 
consciously operating.  Like  the  poison  caught  from  vis- 
iting an  infected  district,  it  is  drawn  into  the  system 


THE  ABUSE   OF  IMAGINATION.  189 

without  our  being  aware  of  the  precise  spot  from  which 
it  comes,  or  even  of  its  existence.  Like  the  evil  influ- 
ence of  companions,  these  evil  communications  corrupt 
good  manners,  all  the  more  certainly  because  they  work 
pleasantly  and  imperceptibly.  The  evil  arises  from 
the  vain  shows  into  which  the  mind  is  conducted ;  from 
the  false  pictures  of  the  world  and  of  human  character 
which  are  exliibited.  It  springs  from  the  images  with 
which  the  mind  is  filled,  and  which  present  themselves 
when  invited  and  when  not  invited.  For  having  called 
up  these  spirits,  and  cherished  and  fondled  them,  we 
may  find  that  we  cannot  lay  them  when  we  choose ; 
that  they  abide  with  us  whether  we  will  or  no,  first  to 
tempt  and  finally  to  torment  us. 

Even  when  the  novels  are  all  proper  in  themselves  the 
immoderate  use  of  them  has  a  pernicious  tendency.  It 
has  been  shown  by  Bishop  Butler  and  by  Diigald  Stew- 
art ^  that  it  is  injurious  to  the  mind  to  stimulate  high  feel- 
ing, —  as  is  done  in  the  novel,  —  when  the  feeling  is  not 
allowed  to  go  out  in  action.  It  is  a  good  thing  to  cher- 
ish compassion  towards  a  person  in  distress,  when  we  are 
led  in  consequence  to  take  steps  towards  his  relief.  But 
it  is  not  so  good  a  thing  to  indulge  in  sympathy  towards 
an  imaginary  personage  whom  we  cannot  aid.  The  ra- 
tionale of  this  can  be  given.  In  proportion  as  we  be- 
come familiar  with  scenes  of  distress  we  are  less  and  less 
affected  by  them.  But  when  the  scenes  are  real,  and 
when  we  are  in  the  way  of  relieving  the  misery,  we  are 
in  the  mean  time  acquiring  a  habit  of  benevolence,  which 
like  other  habits  will  grow  and  strengthen  with  the  ex- 
ercise. In  going  into  such  scenes  we  may  not  feel  so 
keenly  as  we  at  one  time  did,  but  if  the  mere  sensibility 
of  benevolence  is  lessened,  the  principle  and  the  habit 

1  Butler's  Analogy  ;   Stewart's  Elements,  Part  i.  cap.  viii. 


190  THE  POWER   OF  COMPOSITION. 

are  increased.  But  it  is  different  when  our  feelinsrs  are 
in  the  way  of  being  roused  by  harrowing  scenes  in  a 
romance ;  here  we  have  the  feelings  deadened  to  ordi- 
nary misery  without  any  habit  of  active  benevolence 
being  acquired.  Hence  it  is  that  we  so  often  find  that 
the  eyes  which  stain  the  novel  with  tears  refuse  to  weep 
over  the  -real  miseries  of  the  poor.  "  From  these  rea- 
sonings it  appears,"  says  the  philosoplier  last  named, 
"  that  an  habitual  attention  to  exhibitions  of  fictitious 
distress  is  in  every  view  calculated  to  check  our  moral 
improvement.  It  diminishes  that  uneasiness  which  we 
feel  at  the  sight  of  distress,  and  which  prompts  ns  to 
relieve  it.  It  strengthens  that  disgust  which  the  loath- 
some concomitants  of  distress  excite  in  the  mind,  and 
which  prompts  us  to  avoid  the  sight  of  misery,  while  at 
the  same  time  it  has  no  tendency  to  confirm  those  habits 
of  active  benevolence  without  which  the  best  dispositions 
are  useless." 

This  is  the  result  even  on  the  supposition  that  the 
characters  are  properly  drawn.  Still  more  fatal  conse- 
quences follow  when  the  imagination  is  employed  in 
such  works  to  decorate  vice  or  depreciate  true  excel- 
lence ;  to  piiture  human  nature  as  essentially  good  and 
the  ungodly  as  truly  happy  ;  to  represent  piety  as  mean 
or  profanity  as  something  noble ;  to  picture  tiie  religious 
as  either  fools  or  hypocrites  ;  or  daub  over  with  paint  the 
face  of  fading  worldly  vanity. 

SECTION  VI. 

TRAINING   OF    THE   IMAGINATION. 

It  may  best  be  educated  by  laying  up  a  store  of  noble 
images,  ever  presenting  themselves  to  enliven  and  in- 
struct  the  mind.     There  are  works  devised  by  the  imag- 


TRAINING   OF   THE  IMAGINATION.  191 

ination  of  man  fitted  to  accomplish  this  end.  There  is 
the  statue  uith  the  soul  shining  through  the  marble. 
There  is  the  painting,  setting  before  us  historical  incident 
and  character,  and  rousing  the.  soul  to  high  sentiment 
and  energetic  action.  There  is  the  grand  cathedral  witli 
its  imposing  towers,  its  pillar  succeeding  pillar,  and  arch 
upon  arch,  with  the  long  prospective  of  the  nave  and 
the  withdrawing  aisles.  It  is  worth  our  while  to  travel 
many  a  mile  to  store  the  mind  with  such  memories. 

But  the  works  of  God  are  still  more  replete  than 
those  of  man  with  food  for  the  fancy.  Nature  every- 
where brings  before  us  figures  which  strike  the  eye, 
wliich  imprint  themselves  on  the  memory  and  engage 
the  musing  intellect.  The  planet  has  a  regular  oblate 
spheroid  shape,  and  it  runs  in  a  regular  elliptic  orbit. 
Minerals  assume  crystalline  forms  which  are  mathemat- 
ically exact.  The  mountains  stand  so  stable  and  leave 
their  figure  on  our  mind  so  distinctly  as  they  cut  the 
sky.  But  it  is  in  organic  nature  that  type  has  most  sig- 
nificance. The  elementary  form  is  the  cell ;  then  there  is 
what  I  call  the  organic  column,  being  a  shaft  widened  at 
the  two  ends,  seen  in  the  stalks  of  the  leaf,  in  the  boles  of 
trees,  in  the  fingers,  and  in  all  the  bones.  All  the  parts 
of  a  flower  are  formed  on  the  model  of  the  leaf,  and  I 
have  shown  that  there  is  a  correspondence  between  the 
form  of  the  leaf  and  the  form  of  the  branch  and  of  the 
whole  plant.  How  beautiful  an  object  is  a  tree  growing 
fully  in  a  sheltered  lawn  ;  how  picturesque  the  same 
tree  in  winter,  so  sharply  defined  by  a  frost-bound  cover- 
ing of  snow.  Now  the  fancy  is  interested,  and  through 
it  the  meditative  intellect,  when  "  man  in  his  spirit  com- 
munes with  the  forms  of  nature." 

No  one  has  traveled  much  among  the  lovelier  or 
grander  of  nature's  landscapes  without  witnessing  scenes 


192  THE   POWER   OK   COMPOSITION. 

whicli  can  never  be  effaced  from  the  tablet  of  the 
memory,  but  which  are  photographed  there  as  by  a 
sunbeam  process.  It  is  a  quiet  valley  separated  from 
all  the  rest  of  the  world,  and  in  which  repose  visibly 
dwells.  Or  it  may  be  a  wide  extended  plain  and  fields 
with  hedge-rows  and  scattered  trees,  and  dotted  over 
with  well-fed  kine  which  need  only  to  bend  their  necks 
to  find  the  herbiige  ready  to  meet  them ;  and  a  river 
winding  slowly  through  the  midst  of  it,  with  villages 
and  village  churches  on  either  bank, —  the  church  towers 
fixing  the  whole  scene  in  the  memory.  The  ship  with 
its  pointed  masts  and  its  white  sails  stretched  out  to 
the  breeze  makes  the  bay  on  which  it  sails  lively  and 
attractive.  More  imposing  are  the  bold  mountains  which 
cleave  the  sky,  and  the  scarworn  rocks  which  have  faced 
a  thousand  storms  and  are  as  defiant  as  ever.  How 
placid  is  the  lake  sleeping  in  the  midst  of  them,  shel- 
tered by  their  overhanging  eminences  and  guarded  by 
their  turreted  towers  ;  heaven  above  looks  down  on  it 
with  a  smile,  and  is  seen  reflected  from  its  bosom. 
Grander  still,  there  is  the  ocean,  always  old  and  yet 
ever  new  in  its  aspects,  never  changing  and  yet  ever 
changing  ;  and  the  sea-bird,  careering  from  cliff  to  cliff, 
and  hoarsely  chiding  all  human  intruders  from  what  it 
reckons  as  its  own  domains.  The  faculty  which  God  has 
given  us  is  educated  by  the  contemplation  of  the  scenes 
which  He  has  placed  around  us.  A  stroll  among  such 
scenes  at  least  once  a  year,  when  our  large  cities  give 
clouds  of  dust  but  refuse  to  give  us  breath,  is  as  ex- 
hilarating to  the  mind  as  it  is  to  the  body ;  and  the 
mental  vigor  resulting  will  continue  longer  than  the 
revived  bodily  vigor  ;  while  the  pictures  hung  round  the 
chambers  of  the  mind  will  be  seen  looking  down  upon 
us  ever  and  anon,  to  relieve  the  irksomeness  of  our  daily 
solicitudes. 


TRAINING   OF  THE  IMAGINATION.  193 

But  human  nature,  with  its  joys  and  sorrows,  its 
achievements  and  disappointments,  is  better  fitted  to 
stir  up  our  higher  faculties  than  the  grandest  objects 
fashioned  out  of  matter.  History  and  biography  reveal 
incidents  which  incite  the  imagination,  and  youth  should 
be  made  acquainted  with  them.  They  bring  under  our 
notice  characters  which  transcend  in  grandeur  the  great- 
est of  the  works  of  nature,  —  its  mountains  and  its  vales, 
its  streams,  its  cataracts,  and  its  precipices.  Those  who 
would  train  the  mind  to  its  highest  capacity  must  fur- 
nish to  the  young  the  record  of  deeds  of  heroism,  of 
benevolence,  of  self-sacrifice,  of  courage  to  resist  the  evil 
and  maintaui  the  good.  Friendship,  fidelity,  patriotism, 
and  piety  must  be  presented  in  their  most  attractive 
forms.  It  will  be  acknowledged,  even  by  those  who  fail 
to  discover  that  the  Scriptures  are  inspired,  that  they 
bring  before  us  the  incidents  best  fitted  to  interest  the 
young  and  to  improve  the  character. 

I  have  been  uttering  a  word  against  the  excessive 
novel-reading  of  the  age.  But  works  of  fiction  in  poetry 
and  prose  gratify  the  powers  which  God  has  given  us, 
and  if  consistent  with  moral  and  religious  principle  may 
refine  and  enlarge  them.  Let  us  look  to  the  highest 
models  which  the  highest  writers  of  ancient  and  modern 
times  have  set  before  us.  It  appears  to  me  that  some  of 
the  tales  presented  to  the  young,  some  even  of  our  Sab- 
bath-school stories,  tend  rather  to  dissipate  and  weaken 
the  mind.  Others  give  utterly  perverse  views  of  human 
life,  and  make  men,  women,  and  children  act  from 
motives  which  never  swayed  human  beings.  Let  us  not 
confuse  the  mind  by  having  presented  to  it  a  multitude 
of  fictitious  scenes,  which  tend  to  efface  each  other. 
But  let  us  have  a  limited  number  of  images  stored  up, 
each  standing  out  prominently  and  distinctly.    Let  these 

13 


194  THE  POWER   OF  COMPOSITION. 

be  the  characters  which  have  become  chissical  by  being 
represented  by  the  great  writers  of  ancient  and  modern 
times. 

By  all  means  let  the  minds  of  youth  be  inspired  by 
tales  of  heroism.  But  let  me  not  be  misunderstood.  T 
do  nut  regard  tliat  man  as  a  hero  who  has  slain  hun- 
dreds of  thousands  of  his  fellow-men,  but  who  has  been 
all  the  while  the  slave  of  his  own  ambition.  I  trust  that 
as  the  world  grows  older  it  will  also  become  wiser,  and 
reserve  its  admiration  for  men  of  a  higher  stamp.  By 
heroes  I  mean  those  who  have  risen  above  the  meanness 
of  the  world,  above  their  age,  it  may  be  above  them- 
selves, who  have  sacrificed  their  own  interests  to  the  good 
of  others,  who  have  aimed  at  nothing  less  than  render- 
ing their  fellow-men  wiser  and  better.  A  heroism,  this, 
to  be  found  as  readily  in  the  cottage  as  in  the  palace ;  in 
the  cabin  among  the  mountains  or  the  most  obscure 
alley  of  a  great  city  as  in  the  camp  or  battle-field  ;  in 
the  weaker  woman  as  in  the  stronger  man.  She  is  a 
heroine  in  my  estimation  who,  knowing  that  she  risks 
her  life,  nurses  night  and  day  the  brother  or  sister  who 
is  in  raging  fever  and  breathing  infection  all  around.  He 
is  the  hero  who,  in  the  midst  of  pollution,  temptation, 
and  defalcation,  holds  himself  high  above  them  and  re- 
fuses to  be  contaminated.  Every  one  may  claim  a  noble 
lineage  who  is  sprung  from  ancestoi's  who  displayed  such 
qualities.  He  is  of  no  mean  descent  who  can  claim  an 
honest  father  and  a  virtuous  mother.  A  man's  personal 
experience  is  valuable  in  proportion  as  it  has  brought 
him  in  contact  with  persons  of  high  soul  and  noble 
aims.  Highly  privileged  is  the  youth  who  has  had  a 
father  who  has  set  him  an  elevated  example,  or  a  mother 
who  forgot  herself  in  attending  him,  who  has  an  attached 
brother  or  sister,  or  who  has-gained  a  disinterested  friend, 


TRAINING   OF  THE   IMAGINATION.  195 

willing  to  stand  by  him  in  misfortune.  There  is  a  sort 
of  education  which  ennobles  a  youth  more  than  book  or 
training  in  school  or  college.  These  home  scenes  are 
more  instructive  than  foreign  travel  of  any  description. 
The  image  of  such  a  sister,  of  such  a  wife,  is  more  pleas, 
ing  and  benign  than  the  recollection  of  a  painting  oi 
a  Venus  or  Madonna.  The  remembrance  of  a  friend 
who  defended  us  is  more  invigorating  than  that  of  a 
statue  of  a  Hercules  or  Apollo.  A  man  whose  mind  isi 
stored  with  these  memories  is  never  alone,  for  he  ha& 
friends  to  travel  with  him  wherever  he  goes,  to  enlighten 
him  with  their  wisdom,  and  warm  him  with  their  love. 
By  means  of  such  scenes  the  imagination  is  inspired  i 
and  out  of  them  it  constructs  its  cherished  fancies  and 
its  ideal  world. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

THE   SYMBOLIC   POWER. 
SECTION  I. 

ITS    NATURE. 

By  this  is  meant  the  power  of  thinking  by  means  of 
signs  or  symbols,  especially  Language. 

When  the  objects  are  now  present  and  under  the 
senses  external  and  internal,  such  as  the  mountain  before 
me  and  the  joy  we  feel  in  contemplating  it,  we  do  not 
need  any  sign  to  enable  us  to  think  of  them.  We  can 
compare  these  two  statues  without  the  use  of  words  or 
any  other  medium,  and  decide  for  ourselves  that  the  one 
has  better  proportioned  form  and  the  other  has  more 
intelligence  and  expression  in  the  countenance. 

When  the  objects  are  absent  we  need  ideas  of  them 
in  the  mind,  what  I  call  phantasms,  in  order  to  think  of 
them.  By  means  of  these  we  can  compare  two  statues 
not  before  our  eyes.  In  such  cases  we  primarily  com- 
pare the  images,  but  these  images  stand  for  the  things, 
say  the  two  statues,  and  we  regard  ourselves  as  compar- 
ing the  things  as  imaged. 

When  the  ideas  or  images  are  singular  we  can  easily 
think  of  them  ;  we  can  compare  them  and  reason  about 
them  by  means  of  the  ideas  which  represent  them.  It 
is  thus  we  can  discover  resemblances  and  contrasts  be- 
tween Homer  and  Virgil,  between  Alexander  the  Great 


ITS  NATURE.  197 

and  Julius  Cassar,  Newton  and  Leibnitz,  Locke  and 
Kant,  Washington  and  Abraham  Lincohi,  Napoleon  Bo- 
naparte and  Louis  Napoleon,  the  English,  American, 
and  French  Revolutions. 

Even  when  we  are  thinking  of  qualities  or  classes 
(abstract  or  general  notions),  we  can  do  so  by  means  of 
phantasms.  We  have  occasion,  let  me  suppose,  to  think 
of  elasticity  (an  abstract  term),  and  we  image  a  rub- 
ber ball,  which  can  be  squeezed,  but  speedily  takes  its 
original  shape.  We  have  to  reason  about  roses  (a  gen- 
eral notion),  and  we  make  an  effort  to  place  before  the 
mind  a  plant  which  has  all  the  qualities  of  the  rose 
without  those  of  other  plants,  such  as  the  daisy  or  lily. 
This  kind  of  idea  is  much  dwelt  on  by  Locke.  "  Thus  in 
forming  our  idea  of  man  we  leave  out  of  the  complex  idea 
that  which  is  peculiar  to  the  individuals,  —  that  which 
is  peculiar  to  Peter  and  James,  Mary  and  Jane,  —  and 
retain  only  what  is  common  to  all."  (Essay,  B.  IIL  3.) 
Locke  is  certainly  right  in  holding  that  we  do  endeavor 
to  form  such  an  idea.  Farther,  we  do  in  fact  think, 
compare,  and  judge,  by  means  of  such  phantasms.  But 
it  should  be  observed  that  these  are  not  the  same  as  our 
abstract  and  general  notions.  They  are  concrete  and  sin- 
gular, and  so  are  not  the  same  as  abstract  notions,  which 
are  notions  of  parts  or  attributes  of  objects,  or  as  general 
notions  of  an  indefinite  number  of  objects  joined  by  the 
possession  of  a  common  attribute.  In  all  such  cases  the 
phantasm  is  used  as  a  sign,  the  individual  image  standing 
for  a  quality  w^hich  it  strikingly  exhibits,  or  for  a  general 
notion  of  a  member  of  which  it  is  a  sign.  We  can  often 
think  correctly  enough  by  means  of  such  ideas.  When 
we  can  do  so  we  move  in  the  midst  of  pictures,  and  our 
thinking  is  rendered  livelier  and  more  interesting. 

Such  ideas,  it  should   be  noticed,  are  always  inade- 


198  THE   SYMBOLIC   POWER. 

quate  when  considered  as  standing  for  abstract  and  gen- 
eral notions.  They  are  concrete,  and  present  more  than 
the  abstract  idea  ;  they  picture  the  object  as  well  as  the 
attribute.  Bishop  Berkeley  exposes  with  great  acute- 
.  ness  the  absurdity  implied  in  the  supposition  that  the 
mind  can  form  abstract  general  ideas  in  the  sense  of 
positive  representations.  "  The  mind  having  observed 
that  Peter,  James,  and  John  resemble  each  other  in  cer- 
tain common  agreements  of  shape  and  other  qualities, 
leaves  out  of  the  complex  or  compounded  idea  of  Peter, 
James,  and  any  other  particular  man  that  which  is  pe- 
culiar to  each,  retaining  only  what  is  common  to  all,  and 
so  makes  an  abstract  wherein  all  the  particulars  equally 
partake,  abstracting  from  and  cutting  off  all  those  cir- 
cumstances and  differences  which  might  determine  it  to 
any  particular  existence.  And  after  this  manner,  it  is 
said,  we  come  by  the  abstract  idea  of  man ;  or,  if  you 
please,  humanity  or  human  nature,  wherein  it  is  true 
there  is  included  color,  because  there  is  no  man  but 
has  some  color ;  but  then  it  can  be  neither  black  nor 
any  other  particular  color  wherein  all  men  partake. 
So,  likewise,  there  is  included  stature  ;  but  then  it  is 
neither  tall  stature  nor  low  stature,  but  something  ab- 
stracted from  all  these."  (Int.  to  Prin.)  Such  consid- 
erations show  conclusively  that  the  mind  cannot  form 
any  just  or  adequate  idea  in  the  sense  of  image  or  phan- 
tasm of  a  class.  The  truth  is  that  every  image  before 
the  mind  must  be  that  of  an  individual,  and  cannot 
therefore  fully  exhibit  a  species  or  a  genus.  And  as 
the  notion  becomes  more  and  more  general  or  more  ab- 
stract, especially  when  it  is  of  mental  or  spiritual  objects, 
the  representation  becomes  more  and  more  difficult ; 
and  in  our  higher  intellectual  processes  it  is  felt  to  b<; 
impossible  to  form  any  picture.     Who  can  form  an  idea, 


ITS  NATURE.  199 

in  the  sense  of  image,  of  gravitation,  of  law  of  virtue,  of 
expectation,  of  indignation,  of  civilization,  of  govern- 
ment? 

It  is  a  mistake  to  suppose  that  we  cannot  think,  can- 
not compare,  or  reason,  or  feel,  or  approve,  or  disapprove 
without  language.  It  is  necessary  that  man  should  first 
think  before  he  can  understand  language.  Certainly  it 
must  have  been  necessary  for  him  to  judge  and  reason 
before  he  could  invent  language.  Man  thinks  primarily 
by  means  of  phantasms,  and  these  can  be  made  to  stand 
for  higher  thoughts  and  used  accordingly. 

Man  uses  signs  in  the  first  instance  to  indicate  his 
wants,  and  to  express  his  meaning  to  others.  Even  the 
lower  animals,  such  as  crows,  have  the  capacity  of  using 
signs  to  announce  the  discovery  of  food  or  of  danger  to 
their  species,  and  of  understanding  them.  Laura  Bridg- 
man,  without  the  senses  of  sight  or  hearing,  had  a  dis- 
position to  resort  to  movements  of  the  body  to  express 
her  thoughts  and  feelings.  Children  are  commonly  dis- 
posed to  ring  their  vocables  the  livelong  day.  Homer 
gives  it  as  one  of  tlie  characteristics  of  mankind  that 
they  are  word-dividing  ()uepo7rcs),  analyzing  and  con- 
structing to  form  a  language  suited  to  their  ever-advan- 
cing thoughts,  and  using  that  language  to  advance  their 
thoughts  still  farther. 

In  our  higher  abstractions  and  generalizations,  and  in 
our  reasonings  and  moral  judgments,  we  need  symbols, 
and  especially  language,  to  carry  on  our  mental  processes. 
They  are  as  much  required  as  figures  are  in  arithmetic, 
as  letters  a,  5,  x^  y,  in  algebra.  In  the  first  place,  it  would 
be  difficult  to  form  a  mental  image  of  10,  of  856,673, 
or  of  ^^,  or  of  personal  prejudice,  or  benevolence,  or  self- 
sacrifice,  or  spiritiial  puritj^  or  perfection.  In  the  sec- 
ond place,  these  phantasms  in  our  uneducated  reasonings 


200  THE   SYMBOLIC   POWER. 

and  recondite  researches  might  have  a  confusing,  a  dis- 
tracting, and  misleading  influence,  as  bringing  objects 
and  qualities  not  relevant,  or  omitting  qualities  essential 
to  the  argument. 

In  feeling  his  need  of  them  and  finding  the  use  of 
them,  man  comes  to  carry  on  his  thinking,  to  a  great 
extent,  by  means  of  language.  In  this  way  his  thinking 
is  abbreviated,  by  using  simple  words  for  very  complex 
thoughts,  and  can  be  carried  on  more  rapidly  and  much 
farther. 

It  should  be  adopted  as  a  principle,  however,  that 
in  thus  using  signs  for  thoughts  we  should  always  be 
ready  to  translate  the  sign  into  the  thing  signified.  In 
discussion  an  opponent  is  entitled  to  insist  on  this.  In 
recondite  reasoning,  in  which  confusion  is  apt  to  appear, 
we  should  do  it  for  our  own  satisfaction,  lest  we  be  led 
to  affirm  or  deny  of  the  sign  what  we  would  never  pred- 
icate of  the  thought  or  thing  for  which  it  stands. 

I  am  inclined  to  give  the  Symbolic  a  place  among  the 
faculties  of  the  mind.  It  may  be  difficult  to  determine 
how  much  of  it  we  owe  to  original  capacity  and  how 
much  to  development  and  heredity.  It  seems  to  me  to 
be  the  product  of  a  combination  of  several  powers. 
There  is  in  man  an  organic  apparatus  of  a  very  flexi- 
ble character,  and  capable  of  producing  a  greater  number 
and  variety  and  delicacy  of  tones  than  any  artificial  in- 
strument ;  it  consists  of  the  larynx  and  its  attached 
organs,  the  epiglottis,  ligaments,  and  chords.  The  power 
of  association  of  ideas  is  always  involved  in  it ;  the 
thought  is  associated  with  the  sign.  However  produced, 
Language  is  to  man  a  natural  endowment,  and  is  to  be 
regarded  as  a  heaven-bestowed  gift. 


ITY 


BELATION   OF  SPEECH   TO  THE  BRAIN. 


SECTION    11. 


m 


RELATION   OF   SPEECH   TO    THE   BRAIN. 

[I  am  indebted  to  my  former  pupil,  M.  Allen  Starr,  M.  D.,  Ph.  D., 
for  the  stiitenient  in  this  Section.  It  is  altogether  worthy  of  being  re- 
corded.] While  there  seem  to  be  local  centres  in  the  bruin,  there  is 
at  the  same  time  a  unity  of  brain  action.  Since  speech  is  the  em- 
bodiment of  a  mental  act  in  physical  vibrations,  it  is  evident  that  it 
has  both  material  and  psychical  elements.  Each  word  which  is  in- 
telligently used  has  been  acquired  by  a  process  of  education.  If  that 
process  be  analyzed,  it  may  be  shown  that  the  mental  basis  of  speech 
consists  of  a  series  of  word-images,  each  made  up  of  a  number  of 
memories.  Thus  the  word  bell  has  its  mental  elements,  which  may 
be  distinguished  from  one  another  as  follows,  and  illustrated  by  the 
aid  of  a  diagram:  There  is  the  memory  of  the  siglit  of  the  bell, 
which  may  be  called  the  visual  memory.  There  is  another  of  its 
tone,  which  may  be  termed  the  auditory  memory.  There  is  one  of 
touch,  which  recalls  the  rough  cold  surface  of  the  metal,  the  tactile 
memory.  Then  the  word  bell  as  heard  differs  from  the  tone  of  the 
bell,  and  is  preserved  in  the  word-hearing  memory.  Also  the  word 
bell  as  printed  or  written  must  have  been  retained  in  the  word-see- 
ing memory.  Finally,  there  are  two  effort  memories  connected  with 
the  muscular  movements  involved  in  uttering  and  in  writing  the  word. 
Thus  the  word-concept  bell  is  made  up  of  a  number  of  memories,  each 
of  which  in  the  diagram  is  represented  by  a  circle.  The  various  mem- 
ories are,  however,  associated  intimately  with  one  another,  so  that 
when  one  is  aroused  the  others  come  to  mind.  The  circles  must  there- 
fore be  joined  with  one  another  by  lines  in  the  diagram,  which  then 
represents  the  mental  elements  of  the  word  bell.  The  physical  ele- 
ments may  now  be  considered.  Each  of  the  memorj'-pictures  of  the 
bell  is  the  relic  of  a  past  perception,  which  has  been  acquired  through 
an  organ  of  sense.  The  visual  memory  is  the  reproduction  of  a  per- 
ception of  sight  obtained  through  the  eye;  the  auditory  memory  is  the 
recollection  of  a  tone  heard  by  the  ear;  and  so  for  the  other  memo- 
ries. Each  organ  of  sense  is  a  physical  mechanism  capable  of  re- 
ceiving vibrat  ions,  and  is  connected  by  a  nerve  with  its  own  region 
on  the  gray  surface  of  the  brain,  to  wliich  the  vibrations  are  sent  as 
sensations,  and  in  which  they  are  perceived.  In  the  diagram  we 
may  therefore  join  the  circles  with  the  bell  by  lines,  which  will  repre- 
sent the  nerves  from  the  organs  of  sense,  and  to  the  organs  of  motion. 


202 


THE  SYMBOLIC  POWER. 


If  the  memory-picture  is  a  relic  of  a  perception,  it  follows  that  th( 
memory  is  located  in  the  same  region  in  which  the  perception  oe 
curred.  But  anatomy  has  shown  that  the  various  regions  of  th« 
brain  are  joined  with  one  another  by  nerves  which  run  beneath  the 
gray  surface  in  the  white  matter  ;  so  that  the  lines  joining  the  circles 
in  the  diagram  may  represent  the  association  fibres  of  the  brain  as 
well  as  the  mental  connections  of  the  memories.  The  diagram  is 
therefore  more  in  accordance  with  an  actual  arrangement  in  the 
brain  than  it  may  have  seemed  at  first. 


Diagram  op  the  Word-Image  "  Bell."  (Modified  from  Charcot.)  Each  circle  repre- 
sents a  distinct  memory  involred  in  the  mental  image.  The  circles  are  joined 
together  because  the  memories  are  associated  in  the  mind.  Each  memory  is  the 
relic  of  a  past  perception,  acquired  through  an  organ  of  sense.  The  lines  to  the 
circles  indicate  the  source  of  the  perception.  The  organs  of  motion  by  which  the 
word  is  spoken  or  written  are  the  mouth  and  the  hand. 

If,  now,  I  show  you  a  bell,  and  ask  you  its  name,  your  visual  mem- 
ory is  first  aroused,  then  your  word-hearing  memory,  and,  finally, 
your  word-uttering  memory  ;  three  distinct  memory-pictures  rising 


Oil  THE  TEACHING   OF  LANGUAGES.  203 

in  your  mind  in  succession  by  the  process  of  association.  If,  how- 
ever, I  merely  ask  yoa  to  repeat  the  word  bell  after  me,  I  arouse  but 
two  memories  in  succession  ;  one  the  word-hearinrr,  the  other  the 
word-uttering.  The  latter,  being  a  simpler  process  than  tlie  former, 
is  found  by  actual  measurement  to  require  but  one  half  of  the  time  ; 
for  the  repetition  of  a  word  takes  but  one  fourth  of  a  second,  wliile 
the  naming  of  an  object  takes  about  half  a  second. 

But  if  the  memory  j)ictures  are  really  distinct  from  one  another, 
and  lie  in  different  regions  of  the  brain,  it  should  be  possible  for  dis- 
ease limited  to  one  region  to  produce  a  loss  of  one  kind  of  memory. 
And  this  is  actually  the  case.  For  it  is  found  that  some  persons  lose 
their  memory  of  objects,  so  that  they  do  not  recognize  them  when 
seen ;  others  lose  the  power  of  understanding  spoken  language;  others 
forget  how  to  read  or  write;  and  others,  still,  lose  the  power  of  speak- 
ing the  words  which  they  know  and  remember.  So  that  there  are 
diseases  of  the  brain  whose  effect  is  to  deprive  the  person  suffering 
of  a  single  set  of  memory-pictures,  an  effect  which  could  be  repre- 
sented on  the  diagram  by  obliterating  one  of  the  memory-circles. 
And  further,  there  are  forms  of  disease  which  affect  the  association- 
fibres  joining  different  areas  of  the  brain,  in  which  case  the  associa- 
tion of  ideas  is  interfered  with.  If,  however,  the  surface  of  the  brain 
in  these  cases  is  not  destroyed  the  memories  remain,  and  it  is  often 
curious  to  see  the  manner  in  which  they  are  reached  by  indirect  as- 
sociation when  the  direct  fibres  are  broken.  All  these  facts  point  to 
the  existence  of  a  physical  basis  of  speech  in  the  brain,  which  corre- 
sponds, as  we  have  seen,  quite  closely  to  the  mental  basis.  It  is  an 
interesting  fact  that  only  one  hemisphere  of  the  brain  presides  over 
the  process  of  speech  :  in  right-handed  persons  it  is  in  the  left  hemi- 
sphere that  the  memories  are  stored ;  while  in  left-handed  persons  it 
is  the  right  hemisphere  which  preserves  the  mechanism.  The  study 
of  diseases  of  memory  has  led  to  the  discovery  of  the  facts  men- 
tioned, and  is  likely  to  throw  much  light  on  other  mental  processes 
now  imperfectly  understood. 


SECTION   III. 

ON   THE   TEACHING   OF   LANGUAGES. 

From  an  early  age  children  are  very  much  dependent 
on  symbols   (as  all  teachers  know),  and  especial!}^  on 


204  THE  SYMBOLIC   POWER. 

language,  for  the  exercise  of  thinking.  To  a  small  ex- 
tent this  may  be  a  disadvantage,  as  in  the  use  of  words 
they  are  made  to  think  as  those  do  who  have  coined 
the  phrases  and  who  use  them.  But  to  a  far  larger  ex- 
tent it  is  a  benefit,  as  it  puts  them  in  possession  at  once 
of  the  matured  thought  of  ages.  The  power  of  speech, 
early  practiced  and  going  down  by  heredity,  is  a  natu- 
ral endowment  and  should  be  cultivated  by  children.  I 
rather  think,  however,  that  young  children  should  not 
be  distracted  by  learning  any  other  tongue  than  their 
own,  which  they  should  be  taught  to  use  correctly.  But 
great  advantages  arise  from  people  who  claim  to  be  edu- 
cated being  instructed  in  other  tongues  as  well  as  their 
own,  as  they  are  thereby  introduced  to  the  thoughts  of 
other  peoples,  and  are  not  bound  to  move  in  the  ruts 
which  have  been  worn  by  their  countrymen. 

A  talent  for  langunges  is  developed  at  an  earlier  age 
than  one  for  mathematics  or  physics.  At  the  age  of 
nine  or  so  a  child  may  begin  to  learn  Latin  or  French, 
but  should  not  be  pushed  hard.  In  a  year  or  two  after- 
wards Greek  or  German  may  be  added,  great  care  being 
taken  not  to  overload  the  brain  or  to  confuse  the  think- 
ing. I  find  that  a  much  greater  number  of  young  people 
from  twelve  to  sixteen  or  so  betake  themselves  with  more 
eagerness  to  languages  than  to  abstract  science ;  advan- 
tage should  be  taken  of  this  taste  to  have  the  teaching 
of  languages  commenced  in  childhood,  and  I  am  disposed 
to  add  completed  in  youth,  except,  indeed,  when  lin- 
guistic scholarship  is  sought,  when  it  may  have  to  be 
continued  for  life. 

If  we  wish  to  make  the  acquisition  of  foreign  lan- 
guages attractive  they  should  be  learned  in  much  the 
same  way  as  our  native  tongue  has  been.  There  must 
indeed  be  simple  grammatical  rules,  gathered  from  the 


THE   TRAINING   OF   THE  REPRODUCTIVE   POWERS.       205 

passages  read,  taught  from  the  beginning.  But  the  more 
scientific  grammatical  and  linguistic  laws  should  not 
be  insisted  on  till  the  scientific  faculties  have  been  so 
far  matured  and  are  ready  to  work. 

I  am  bound  to  add  that  when  the  sole  education  or 
even  the  main  part  of  it  has  been  in  languages,  the  ti-ain- 
ing  is  not  favorable  to  independence  or  to  solidity  and 
manliness  of  thinking.  When  children  rise  to  fourteen 
years  or  so,  scientific  should  be  mixed  with  the  linguis- 
tic studies,  if  the  mind  is  to  be  fully  or  healthily  de- 
veloped. 

SECTIOX   IV. 

THE   TRAINING   OF   THE   REPRODUCTIVE   POWERS. 

I  have  taken  pains,  in  my  exposition  of  the  separate 
powers,  to  show  how  they  may  be  cultivated.  It  now 
remains  only  to  gather  the  remarks  to  a  point.  The 
reproductive  powers  come  next  to  the  senses  and  the 
accompanying  consciousness,  in  the  order  of  their  appear- 
ance. They  should  be  educated  in  early  life,  in  order 
to  call  forth  and  prepare  materials  for  the  higher  pow- 
ers, such  as  the  judgment  and  the  conscience.  Exercise 
in  memory  and  in  language,  if  we  follow  the  course  of 
nature,  should  come  before  science,  into  which,  as  I 
think,  some  modem  educators  would  hurry  children  at 
too  early  an  age.  Our  fathers  were  right  in  exercising 
the  memory,  the  apprehension,  and  fancy  before  intro- 
ducing youths  to  the  more  abstract  problems  of  science  ; 
but  they  often  erred  in  burdening  the  mind  with  too 
many  dry  details,  or  in  engrossing  it  with  words. 

(1.)  Pains  should  be  taken  to  retain  knowledge  and  all 
useful  lessons  in  the  mind.  I  have  carefully  explained 
how  all  this  may  be  done.  In  order  to  this  it  is  needful 
that  the  teaching  should  be  as  interesting  as  possible,  — - 


206  THE  SYMBOLIC  POWER. 

that  It  should  engage  the  intellect  by  everything  being 
explained  and  the  attention  being  thoroughly  secured. 

(2.)  It  is  of  vast  moment  that  the  association  of 
thoughts  and  feelings  be  properly  regulated,  that  vice  be 
not  painted  as  something  grand  and  noble,  and  virtue 
as  something  mean.  We  must  not  be  satisfied  to  have 
youth  learn  by  rote,  that  is,  by  the  mere  law  of  contigu- 
ity ;  they  must  lay  up  facts  in  classes  and  according  to 
tbe  relations  of  causes  and  consequences. 

(3.)  I  have  shown  how  the  memory  may  be  improved 
by  taking  advantage  of  the  laws  of  association,  primary 
and  secondary.  Particular  pains  should  be  taken  to 
make  children  distinguish  between  the  original  and 
proper  Inemories  and  the  color  which  may  be  given  and 
the  additions  made  by  association  and  by  rapid  infer- 
ence. It  is  thus  that  we  can  have  truth  without  a  mix- 
ture of  fiction,  and,  what  is  one  of  the  most  valuable  of 
virtues,  a  spirit  of  truthfulness. 

(4.)  A  stock  of  images,  pure,  chaste,  and  ennobling, 
should  be  laid  up  in  childhood  and  in  youth,  to  be  called 
up  in  after  years  in  the  midst  of  the  cares  of  business 
and  the  lassitude  of  infirmity.  Education  should  not  be 
made  too  mechanical  or  even  scientific.  Children  should 
be  induced  to  read  tales  of  heroism  and  magnanimity,  to 
watch  the  aspects  of  nature,  and  to  mingle  in  scenes  full 
of  human  interest. 

(5.)  Our  forefathers  in  some  schools  gave  too  exclusive 
a  place  to  language.  But  it  is  certain  all  the  while  that 
language  is  a  natural  gift,  that  children  can  learn  a  new 
tongue  before  they  can  learn  a  science,  and  that  lan- 
guages, especially  our  own  language,  should  be  culti- 
vated from  an  early  age,  for  the  training  they  give  and 
for  the  knowledge  they  open  to  us. 

There  is  a  keen   dispute   in   the   present  day  as   to 


THE   TRAINING   OF   THE   REPRODUCTIVE   POWERS.      207 

whether  language  and  literature  or  science  should  hold 
the  higher  place  in  our  institutions  of  learning.  If  we 
are  to  look  to  the  place  which  God  has  assigned  to  these 
two  departments,  we  should  give  to  each  an  equally  im- 
portant position,  and  not  forget  to  complete  the  trinity 
by  adding  philosophy  or  the  branches  which  inquire  into 
the  foundation  of  knowledge  and  the  reasons  of  things, 
and  call  forth  the  powers  of  thought  and  reflection. 


BOOK  ni. 

THE  COMPARATIVE  POWERS. 
CHAPTER   I. 

OFFICE  OF   THE   COMPARATIVE   POWERS. 

Hitherto  every  mental  perception  or  apprehension 
coming  before  us  has  been  singular.  All  objects  ob- 
served by  the  senses,  external  and  internal,  have  been 
unconnected.  These,  when  reproduced  by  the  memory, 
and  even  by  the  imagination,  are  still  units.  By  the 
latter  of  these  powers  we  may  join  the  tail  of  a  fish  to 
the  body  of  a  woman,  but  the  mermaid  thus  fashioned  is 
quite  as  individual  a  thing  as  the  woman  or  the  fish 
in  our  idea  of  it.  We  are  now  to  consider  the  mental 
power  which  notices  the  relations  of  objects  and  thus 
binds  them  in  our  apprehension.  It  may  be  called  Com- 
parison, and  is  defined  as  the  Faculty  which  discovers 
Relations.  It  observes,  first,  the  relations  of  objects 
given  by  the  simple  Cognitive  and  Reproductive  Powers, 
and  then  goes  on  to  observe  relations  between  these,  on 
and  on  to  an  indefinite  extent ;  it  can  notice  the  relation 
of  classes  to  classes,  and  pursue  effect  on  to  cause,  and  a 
cause  on  to  a  prior  cause,  and  so  with  all  other  rela- 
tions. 

(1.)  The  discovery  of  relations  proceeds  on  a  knowledge 
of  the  objects  related.     Even  as  the  objects  perceived  to 


OFFICE   OF  THE   COMPARATIVE   POWERS.  209 

be  related  are  real,  so  are  also  the  relations  perceived.  I 
lay  down  this  proposition  in  opposition  to  one  of  the  skep- 
tical doctrines  of  the  present  day.  There  are  metaphy- 
sicians who  tell  us  that  things  themselves  are  unknown 
to  us,  and  that  we  perceive  only  the  relations  of  things. 
This  makes  the  relations  perceived  subjective,  that  is, 
merely  in  the  mind.  In  standing  up  for  the  veracity 
of  our  cognitive  faculties  and  the  reality  of  things,  we 
should  set  aside  both  these  positions  and  maintain  that 
the  things  perceived  and  the  relations  perceived  between 
them  are  both  real.  No  doubt  the  reality  of  the  two  is 
somewhat  different :  the  reality  of  substances  and  the 
reality  of  the  relation  of  substances.  But  as  the  sub- 
stances —  say  mind  and  body  —  exist,  so  do  the  relations 
exist  in  the  substances.  These  two  lilies  exist,  but  so 
also  does  their  resemblance  in  the  possession  of  the  same 
form.  The  things  that  constitute  a  cause  are  real,  and 
also  those  which  constitute  the  effect,  but  the  power  in 
the  cause  to  produce  the  effect  is  also  and  equally  a 
reality. 

(2.)  Man's  knowledge  begins,  not  with  relations,  but 
with  things.  In  laying  down  this  proposition  I  under- 
mine one  of  the  most  fatal  —  as  I  regard  it  —  errors  of 
the  day.  It  is  said  that  all  man's  knowledge  is  relative. 
I  look  on  this  as  a  mistake,  logically  and  chronologically. 
Our  consciousness  being  witness  we  regard  ourselves  as 
having  a  knowledge  of  this  thing  and  that  thing,  —  say  of 
a  brown  horse,  or  of  ourselves  as  perceiving  it.  Having 
got  this  knowledge,  we  may  then  compare  two  or  more 
objects  thus  known  and  discover  some  connection  be 
tween  them,  —  as  that  they  are  like  each  other,  or  that 
they  differ  from  each  other,  or  that  the  one  attracts  the 
other.  We  discover  the  relation  because  we  so  far  know 
the  things  and  perceive  the  relations  to  be  in  the  things. 
14 


210  THE   COMPARATIVE  POWERS. 

This  gives  us  a  positive,  as  opposed  to  a  relative,  theory 
of  knowledge.  Instead  of  saying  that  we  know  the  rela- 
tions of  things  themselves  unknown,  the  correct  state- 
ment is  that  we  discover  the  relations  of  things  known, 
and  discover  the  relations  because  we  know  the  things. 
In  this  way  we  avoid  that  most  subtle  skepticism  of  our 
day,  which  begins  with  the  doctrine  of  Relativity  and 
ends  with  Nescience  or  Agnosticism. 

(3.)  It  is  wrong  to  maintain,  as  so  many  do  in  the 
present  day,  that  the  only  relations  which  the  mind  can 
discover  are  those  of  agreement  and  difference.  This  is 
another  of  the  ways  in  which  sensationalists  and  posi- 
tivists  are  narrowing  tlie  capacities  of  the  human  mind 
and  undermining  our  belief  in  the  reality  of  things. 
They  first  represent  us  as  incapable  of  knowing  things. 
Then  they  make  the  relations  not  to  be  in  the  things. 
Thirdly,  they  speak  of  agreements  and  differences  as  the 
only  relations  which  the  mind  can  discover.  Having 
so  limited  human  capacity,  many  are  prepared  to  ac- 
count for  it  by  material  agency,  or  simply  by  the  action 
of  powers  unknown.  But  to  discover  that  things  agree 
or  disagree  we  must  know  something  of  the  things ;  we 
must  know  some  of  the  qualities  of  the  things.  Farther, 
we  discover  more  or  less  clearly  what  it  is  that  tliey 
agree  or  disagree  in  ;  it  must  be  in  form  or  property  or 
something  else  known  or  conceived. 


CHAPTER  II. 

CLASSIFICATION  OF   RELATIONS. 

We  see  a  tree  in  full  blossom.  I.  We  discover  that 
this  tree  is  the  same  as  we  saw  yesterday,  though  the 
blossoms  are  farther  advanced.  II.  We  contemplate 
separately  the  blossoms,  but  as  blossoms  of  the  tree. 
III.  We  notice  that  the  tree  resembles  others  standing 
near  it.  IV.  We  observe  the  shape  and  size  of  the  tree. 
V.  We  calculate  how  long  the  blossoms  continue.  VI. 
We  try  to  estimate  the  number  of  blossoms.  VII.  We 
find  that  they  emit  a  pleasant  odor.  VIII.  We  discover 
that  some  are  blown  away  by  the  wind.  We  thus  find 
that  the  mind  of  man  can  perceive  eight  kinds  of  relar 
tion :  — 

L   Identity.  V.   Time. 

II.  Whole  and  Parts.  VI.   Quantity. 

III.  Resemblance.  VII.    Active  Property. 

IV.  Space.  VIII.    Cause  and  Effect. 

I  am  sure  that  the  mind  can  discover  all  these  kinds  of 
Relations. 

SECTION  I. 

RELATION  OF  IDENTITY  AND  DIFFERENCE. 

This  relation  carries  us  back  to  the  Simple  Cognitive 
Powers.  We  have  seen  that  we  know  objects  without 
and  within  us  as  having  Being.  (Pages  77,  78.)  The 
same  object  may  be  presented  to  us  at  different  times 


212  CLASSIFICATION    OF    RELATIONS. 

and  it  may  be  with  different  concomitants,  and  when  we 
declare  it  to  be  the  same  the  judgment  is  one  of  identity. 

We  have  an  immediate  and  direct  means  of  knowing 
one  kind  of  identity,  and  that  is  our  personal  identity. 
First,  in  every  act  of  consciousness  we  know  self  as  having 
Being.  (Page  70.)  Again,  in  every  act  of  memory  we 
have  a  remembrance  of  past  self  and  also  a  consciousness 
of  present  self,  and  on  comparing  tliera,  we  at  once  pro- 
nounce the  two  to  be  the  same.  There  may  have  been 
many  and  varied  differences  between  the  two  states.  In 
the  past  state  remembered  we  may  have  been  hopeful, 
elastic,  joyous;  in  the  latter,  sacl,  depressed,  gloomy;  yet 
we  discern  an  essential  self  that  is  the  same.  All  this  is 
self-evident,  that  is,  evident  on  the  bare  contemplation  of 
the  objects.  It  is  necessary ;  we  cannot  be  made  to  de- 
cide otherwise,  or  allow  for  an  instant  that  we  are  dif- 
ferent persons  from  what  we  were  a  month  or  a  year  or 
ten  years  ago.  It  is  also  universal,  that  is,  entertained 
by  all  men.  We  are  thus  entitled  to  regard  it  as  intui- 
tive, for  it  can  stand  the  tests  of  intuition. 

We  have  no  such  direct  means  of  knowing  the  identity 
of  other  and  external  things.  I  saw  a  man  with  a  white 
coat  yesterday  and  I  see  a  man  with  a  black  coat  to-day. 
I  have  no  intuitive  means  of  knowing  that  it  is  the  same 
man.  I  know,  indeed,  that  everything  we  know  hns 
being,  —  the  thing  we  remembered  in  the  past  and  the 
thing  perceived  at  present ;  but  I  have  no  intuitive 
means  of  knowing  that  they  ai'e  the  same.  We  are 
here  thrown  upon  experience,  which  experience  always 
falls  back,  however,  upon  the  princi23le  that  everything  has 
being.  But  it  is  by  a  gathered  induction  and  inference 
that  we  are  able  to  decide  that  this  person  or  this  table 
we  now  see  is  the  same  as  that  we  saw  yesterday. 
Hence,  while  there  is  no  room  for  difference  of  judg 


RELATION  OF  IDENTITY  AND  DIFFERENCE.     213 

ment  as  to  our  personal  identity,  there  is  room  for  dif- 
ference of  opinion  as  to  the  identity  of  other  things ; 
and  there  are  often  mistakes  and  disputes  as  to  the 
identity  of  persons.  We  have  in  these  last  cases  to 
depend  on  the  common  rules  of  experiential  evidence, 
taking  care  not  to  decide  one  way  or  other  when  we 
have  no  sufficient  pi'oof. 

The  Relation  of  Identity  is  always  one  and  the  same, 
but  it  may  take  three  distinct  forms ;  Identity  Proper, 
Contradiction,  and  Excluded  Middle.  These  were  mixed 
up  together  and  at  times  confounded  in  the  ancient  phi- 
losophy, in  the  niediseval  ages,  and  indeed  till  the  present 
century,  when  they  have  been  distinguished  and  care- 
fully separated,  greatly  to  the  benefit  both  of  Logic  and 
Metaphj'sics. 

Identity  Proper.  —  The  same  is  the  same ;  A  is  A. 
This  proposition  is  apt  to  appear  very  trivial  and  even 
silly  till  we  put  it  in  this  form  :  "  The  same  is  the  same, 
observed  it  may  be  in  different  circumstances,  or  with 
different  associations."  I  am  sure  that  I  am  the  same 
person  to-day  when  I  am  in  good  humor  as  yesterday 
when  I  was  angry.  I  discover  that  this  man  in  robust 
health,  florid  and  active,  is  the  man  I  saw  a  year  ago, 
pale,  sallow,  and  listless.  This  same  faculty  guides  us 
in  all  those  judgments  (affirmative)  which  are  called 
immediate  inferences  or  derivative  judgments,  —  as,  w'hen 
it  is  given  that  all  men  have  a  conscience,  we  argue  that 
the  Indian  lias  a  conscience.  It  also  regulates  all  cases 
(affirmative)  in  which  from  two  premises  we  draw  a  con- 
clusion,—  as,  when  it  is  given  that  "he  who  is  responsible 
has  free  will,"  and  that  "  man  is  responsible,"  we  infer 
that  "  man  has  free  will."  In  such  cases  the  mind  dis- 
covers an  identity  in  thought  in  propositions  which  differ 
from  each  other  in  form,  in  language,  and  in  extent. 


214  CLASSIFICATION   OF   RELATIONS. 

The  Principle  of  Contradiction.  —  Here  when  we  have 
a  cognition  or  an  idea  of  a  thing,  we  are  prepared  to  deny 
that  it  has  not  those  qualities  which  it  is  regarded  by  us 
as  possessing.  As,  knowing  that  this  body  has  a  square 
shape,  we  deny  that  it  is  round.  As,  knowing  what  mam- 
mals are,  we  deny  that  they  are  not  warm-blooded.  Our 
negations,  like  our  affirmations,  thus  carry  us  back  to 
our  knowledge  and  our  ideas. 

The  principle  of  Contradiction  has  been  expressed 
variously ;  one  is,  A  cannot  be  not  A.  The  best  form, 
I  think,  is  the  old  one  so  much  used  by  the  mediseval 
logicians  :  "  It  is  impossible  for  the  same  thing  to  be 
and  not  to  be  at  the  same  time."  This  principle  applies 
both  to  things  and  their  qualities.  If  I  know  that  stone 
to  exist  I  cannot  allow  that  it  does  not  exist,  and  I  must 
contradict  those  who  so  assert.  Again,  if  I  know  that 
I  have  free  will,  I  must  deny  that  I  have  not  free  will. 
If  I  know  that  this  body  is  extended,  I  put  a  negative  on 
all  asseverations  that  it  is  not  extended. 

This  principle  regulates  all  propositions  which  draw  a 
negative  proposition  by  immediate  inference.  Thus,  it 
being  allowed  that  no  man  is  infallible,  we  infer  that  the 
pope  and  the  public  press  are  not  infallible.  It  also 
rules  reasoning  in  which  the  conclusion  is  negative.  On 
being  allowed  that  one  who  has  not  reason  is  not  respon- 
sible, and  that  this  man  is  without  reason,  we  argue  that 
he  is  not  responsible. 

Excluded  Middle.  —  When  two  propositions  are  con- 
tradictory both  cannot  be  true.  If  this  man  has  free 
will  it  cannot  be  that  he  has  not  free  will.  When  the 
two  propositipns  are  truly  contradictory  one  or  the  other 
must  be  true.  If  John  Smith  did  commit  the  robbery,  it 
cannot  be  that  he  did  not  commit  it.  But  it  is  to  be  ob. 
served  that  propositions  may  seem  to  be  contradictory 


RELATION  OF  WHOLE  AND  PARTS.  2l5 

when  they  are  not  so,  in  which  case  they  may  be  both 
true  or  both  false.  Tlins,  man  may  be  free  while  yet 
causation  acts  in  his  voluntary  acts.  I  may  be  able  in 
one  sense  to  conceive  of  space  and  time  as  unbounded, 
that  is,  I  decide  iiitelU'ctually  that  they  are  so ;  and  in 
another  sense,  I  am  obliged  by  my  nature  to  conceive  of 
tht  jn,  that  is,  image  them,  as  being  bounded. 

It  has  been  shown  by  philosophic  logicians  that  these 
three  laws  regulate  all  discursive  thought.  But  it  is  to 
be  noticed  that  discursive  thought  always  implies  some- 
thing admitted  on  which  it  proceeds.  All  our  immediate 
inferences  and  reasonings  thus  carry  us  back  to  our  prim- 
itive cognitions,  beliefs,  and  admitted  judgments. 

SECTION  11. 

RELATION   OF   WHOLE   AND   PARTS. 

When  we  consider  the  relation  of  the  whole  to  the 
parts,  this  is  Comprehension.  When  we  consider  the 
relation  of  a  part  to  the  whole,  this  is  Abstraction. 
When  we  separate  the  whole  into  its  parts,  supposed 
to  be  its  whole  parts,  this  is  Analysis.  When  we  put 
the  parts  together  to  make  up  the  whole,  this  is  Syn- 
thesis. These  are  operations  which  every  one  is  per- 
forming every  day.  In  their  higher  forms  they  act  an 
important  part  in  science  of  eveiy  kind. 

In  the  ordinary  affairs  of  life  we  have  ever  to  break 
down  the  concrete  or  cimiplex  whole  into  its  parts,  to 
contemplate  and  use  separately  what  we  have  seen  to- 
gether, and  to  combine  things  in  order  to  make  up  a  con- 
nected whole;  to  combine,  for  example,  the  separate  sides 
and  rooms  of  a  house  to  make  up  our  idea  of  the  house. 
We  are  ever  required  to  consider  the  attributes  of  things 
as  well  as  the  things  themselves.     In  a  loose  way  we  are 


216  CLASSIFICATION   OF  RELATIONS. 

ever  distributing  things  into  compartments  and  putting 
together  the  compartments  to  make  a  complete  concep- 
tion. 

Required  even  in  practical  matters,  these  are  essential 
processes  in  every  kind  of  scientific  investigation.  In 
nature  different  agencies  are  so  mixed  together  that  if 
we  would  ascertain  their  mode  of  operation  we  must 
separate  them.  Inductive  science,  says  Bacon,  begins 
with  "  the  necessary  rejections  and  exckisions,"  or,  as 
Whewell  expresses  it,  with  "the  decomposition  of  facts." 
Abstraction  is  necessary  in  order  to  our  thinking  of,  or 
inquiring  into,  any  attribute,  quality,  or  law.  Analysis 
must  be  constantly  employed  in  every  kind  of  investiga- 
tion, physical  or  metaphysical.  It  is  equally  true  that 
in  all  scientific  inquiry  we  ever  aim  at  reaching  a  syn- 
thesis of  the  things  we  have  considered  separately. 

SECTION  III. 

RELATION   OF   RESEMBLANCE. 

In  our  observation  of  this  relation,  as  of  every  other,  we 
proceed  on  our  knowledge  or  idea,  previous  or  present,  of 
objects.  From  the  knowledge  or  idea  we  have  of  them 
we  perceive  that  there  are  points  in  which  they  are  alike. 
This  enables  us  to  put  them  into  a  class,  to  which  we  may 
attach  a  name.  That  class  must  include  all  the  objects 
possessing  the  common  attributes  fixed  on.  By  the  fac- 
ulty which  discovers  whole  and  parts  we  get,  as  we  have 
seen,  our  abstract  notions.  By  the  faculty  which  dis- 
covers relations  of  resemblance  we  get  our  general  no- 
tions or  concepts.  These  two  kinds  of  notions  are  not 
to  be  confounded.  By  abstraction  we  have  an  idea  of  an 
attribute.  In  our  general  notions  we  put  things  together 
that  have  a  common  quality.     From  this  it  appears  that 


EELATION  OF   RESEMBLANCE.  217 

abstraction,  which. fixes  on  the  common  attribute,  is  ne- 
cessary to  generalization.  It  has  to  be  added  that,  after 
general  notions  have  been  formed,  we  can  compare  them 
and  form  liigher  and  more  complex  concepts. 

(1.)  It  should  be  noticed  that  in  all  cases  generalizjv- 
tion  proceeds  on  common  properties  snpposed  to  be  in  the 
things.  The  concepts  are  no  doubt  formed  by  the  mind, 
but  they  are  formed  from  things  known  or  apprehended. 
When  the  things  are  imaginary  of  course  the  notions 
may  also  be  imaginary.  But  when  the  things  are  real 
the  concept  has  also  a  reality,  that  is,  a  reality  in  the 
common  properties  possessed  by  all  the  objects  embraced 
in  the  class. 

(2.)  The  human  intellect  by  its  native  tendency  is 
ever  led  to  seek  out  points  of  resemblance  among  the 
objects  which  fall  under  its  notice.  As  the  singular  ob- 
jects pressing  themselves  on  our  attention  are  innumer- 
able, and  would  be  a  burden  on  the  memory  were  it 
obliged  to  carry  them  all,  so  we  are  compelled  to  form 
them  into  classes,  were  it  only  to  enable  us  to  bear  them 
about  with  us  more  readily.  While  they  and  their  prop- 
erties are  so  numerous,  they  all  proceed  from  a  few  ele- 
ments, each  with  a  few  qualities,  and  so  we  are  every- 
where presented  with  likenesses  which  the  mind  is  not 
slow  to  observe.  Some  of  these  are  superficial  and  acci- 
dental, having  no  importance  in  the  arrangement  of  the 
objects  in  the  world,  but  others  have  a  deep  significance 
as  proceeding  from  some  universally  acting  cause,  or  fall- 
ing out  according  to  a  law  in  which  there  is  a  Divine 
purpose.  These  furnish  us  with  the  means  of  arranging 
natural  objects  into  what  may  be  called  Natural  Classes, 
—  into  s|)ecies  and  genera,  orders  and  kingdoms,  which 
have  a  deep  meaning,  and  open  to  our  view  the  nature  of 
the  order  that  pervades  the  universe. 


218  CLASSIFICATION  OF  RELATIONS. 

("3.)  It  is  of  importance  to  clistinguish  between  tlie 
relation  of  identity  and  that  of  likeness.  In  the  one 
there  is  a  sameness  in  that  which  constitutes  the  being 
of  a  thing,  in  the  other  in  one  or  more  of  its  qualities. 

SECTION  IV. 

RELATIONS   OF   SPACE. 

We  can  discover  these  because  we  have  a  knowledge  of 
objects,  say  our  own  bodily  frames  and  bodies  in  contact 
with  them,  as  extended,  that  is,  occupying  space.  We 
are  now  able  to  compare  bodies  in  respect  of  the  space 
which  they  occupy,  and  thus  determine  their  form  and 
size,  linear,  superficial,  and  solid.  By  this  gift  of  Lo- 
cality, as  it  may  be  called,  we  are  able  to  estimate  the 
distance  and  the  bulk  of  objects,  and  to  determine  what 
they  are  as  we  meet  them,  say  man  or  woman,  bo}'-  or 
girl,  horse  or  cow,  tree  or  rock,  river  or  mountain,  often 
at  a  great  distance.  In  all  such  cases  we  seem  to  settle 
on  a  unit  of  some  kind,  of  shape  or  distance,  and  to  fix  on 
a  line  of  direction,  say  in  a  straight  line  from  our  eye  or 
ear,  and  to  bring  all  things  into  a  relation  to  these.  The 
skillful  and  practised  eye,  or  rather  mind  acting  through 
the  eye,  may  attain  a  wonderful  accuracy,  apart  fi'om  the 
use  of  any  instrument,  in  determining  these  special  rela- 
tions. 

By  a  process  of  abstraction  we  can  separate  the  space 
from  the  bodies  in  space  and  then  discover  the  relations 
of  pure  space.  This  is  what  is  done  in  geometry.  We 
define  the  things  we  are  to  look  at,  line,  surface,  triangle, 
square,  circle,  and  then  proceed  to  compare  the  things 
defined.  Some  of  the  truths  we  discover  by  pure  intui- 
tion, that  is,  by  the  bare  contemplation  of  the  figures. 
Thus  on  considering  two  parallel  lines  we  declare  that 


THE   RELATIONS   OF   TIME.  219 

they  will  never  meet.  In  other  cases  we  cannot  discover 
the  relation  directly  and  we  resort  to  mediate  reason- 
ing. We  have  found  that  A  =  B  and  B  =  C  and  we 
conclude  that  A  =  C.  We  do  not  require  any  enunciated 
•general  rule  to  enable  us  to  do  so.  We  so  conclude  at 
once  on  the  bare  contemplation  of  the  objects.  But  then 
some  good  purposes  are  served  by  expressing  in  a  geneial 
form  the  principle  on  which  we  have  proceeded,  which  is, 
"  things  which  are  equal  to  the  same  thing  are  equal 
to  one  another."  This  may  now  be  aimounced  as  an 
axiom  regulating  our  reasonings.  A  corollary  is  a  truth 
derived  at  once  from  some  truth  we  have  demonstrated. 


SECTION  V. 

THE   RELATIONS   OF   TIME. 

We  can  discover  these  because  we  already,  by  memory 
(the  Recognitive  Power,  p.  153),  have  an  apprehension 
of  events  as  happening  in  time.  These  relations  are  not 
so  nuuierous  as  those  of  space,  but  are  of  equal  impor- 
tance. They  may  be  summed  up  under  three  heads  ;  con- 
temporaneous, prior,  and  posterior.  Here,  as  in  regard 
to  space,  we  have  to  take  a  unit  of  comparison,  a  second, 
a  minute,  an  hour,  a  year,  a  century,  and  estimate  all 
things  by  it.  The  digits  give  us  our  decimal  units  and 
the  seasons  the  yearly  units.  Great  events,  such  as  the 
Jewish  passover,  the  institution  of  the  Olympic  games, 
the  birth  of  Christ,  the  flight  of  Mohammed,  give  our 
starting-points  in  historical  chronology.  The  fossils  with 
the  minerals  give  us  the  epochs  in  geology.  By  such 
means  we  can  go  far  back  into  the  past,  and  by  reasoning 
from  the  past  look  far  forward  into  the  future. 


220  CLASSIFICATION   OF  RELATIONS. 

SECTION  VI. 

RELATIONS    OF   QUANTITY. 

These  are  the  relations  of  less  or  more,  of  degree  of 
proportion.  We  can  discover  these  because  we  have 
had  objects  before  us  with  bulk  and  events  running 
through  time,  and  also  because  we  have  discovered  rela- 
tions between  these,  such  as  relations  of  space  and  time, 
and  it  may  be  all  other  relations.  Having  discovered 
objects  and  relations,  we  can  find  that  they  have  less 
or  more  of  the  qualities  we  have  fixed  on  and  specify 
the  projDortion  between  the  qualities.  In  the  practical 
affairs  of  life  this  capacity  keeps  tilings  in  their  proper 
place,  calls  forth  our  acts  at  the  suitable  time,  imparts 
a  unity  and  a  consistency  to  the  conduct,  and  makes 
things  march  in  harmony. 

This  is  specially  the  mathematical  talent.  In  geom- 
etry, indeed,  the  relations  of  space  are  the  main  ones 
looked  at.  In  arithmetic  we  may  have  to  use  the  units 
supplied  by  time.  But  ever  since  Descartes  showed  that 
the  relations  of  space  could  be  expressed  quantitatively, 
mathematics,  as  a  science,  may  be  represented  as  the 
science  of  quantity  and  as  dealing  with  the  relations  of 
quantity. 

It  is  of  importance  to  show  that  the  relation  of  equality 
is  not  the  same  as  that  of  identity  or  as  that  of  resem- 
blance. In  the  judgments  of  identity  we  declare  the  ob- 
jects to  be  the  same.  In  those  of  resemblance  we  pro- 
claim them  to  have  like  qualities.  But  in  equality  we 
declare  them  to  be  the  same  in  point  of  quantity.  When 
we  declare  that  A  =  6  or  that  A  resembles  B,  Ave  do  not 
affirm  the  things  to  be  identical  or  that  they  are  like,  but 
that  they  are  equal.     By  applying  these  distinctions  we 


RELATIONS   OF  ACTIVE  POWER   OR    PROPERTY.         221 

are  able  to  correct  a  mistake  which  certain  mathemati- 
cians are  seeking  to  introduce  into  logic.  They  inter- 
pret the  proposition  "all  men  are  mortal"  as  meaning 
"all  men  =  some  mortals."  Now  this  is  to  misunder- 
stand and  pervert  tiie  proposition,  which,  when  properly 
interpreted,  means  that  "  all  men  have  the  attribute  of 
mortality,"  a  proposition  in  comprehension  (\vliole  or 
parts),  and  the  involved  proposition  in  extension,  that 
is,  resemblance,  "  all  men  are  included  in  the  class  of 
mortals." 

SECTION  VII. 

RELATIONS   OF   ACTIVE   POWER   OR   PROPERTY. 

We  are  able  to  know  these  relations  because  we  know 
objects  wdthout  and  within  us  as  exercising  power.  We 
know  body  as  having  potency  probably  by  all  the  senses  : 
we  seem  to  have  a  perception  of  body,  affecting  us  even 
by  smell,  taste,  feeling,  liearing,  and  vision ;  certainly  we 
have  it  by  the  muscular  sense.  It  is  palpably  wrong 
to  assert,  as  some  do,  that  body  is  altogether  passive. 
There  is  a  sense,  it  should  be  admitted,  in  which  body 
is  passive.  If  left  isolated  and  alone  it  will  not  act ;  it 
will  continue  in  the  state  in  which  it  is.  But  every  body- 
is  acted  on  by  other  bodies,  it  is  attracted  by  them  or 
chemically  affected  by  them,  it  acts  and  is  acted  on,  it 
moves  and  is  changed.  All  action  of  bodies  is  mutual 
action  :  one  body  acts  on  another  and  the  other  acts  on 
it.  In  respect  of  their  active  powers  bodies  liave  various 
relations  to  each  other  w^hich  we  can  discover  and  express. 
Physical  science  consists  essentially  in  the  discovery  of 
the  relations  of  bodies  to  each  other,  which  are  expressed 
in  laws,  mechanical,  chem.ical,  vital. 

It  is  generally  acknowledged  that  mind  has  power. 
I  think  I  see  proof  that  body  acts  on  mind  and  mind  on 


222  CLASSIFICATION   OF   RELATIONS. 

body :  an  action  of  the  nerves  and  brain  gives  rise  to 
perception :  I  will  to  move  my  arm  and  it  moves.  There 
is  always  much  mystery  about  the  relations,  that  is,  mu- 
tual actions,  of  mind  and  body ;  still  some  points  have  been 
determined  as  to  the  relation  of  mind  and  the  cerebro- 
spinal mass,  and  hundreds  are  eagerly  employed  in  seek- 
ing to  make  farther  discoveries.  We  certainly  know 
much  sjjeculatively  and  practically  as  to  the  activity  of 
mind  ami  the  laws  which  govern  it.  From  the  days  of 
Aristotle  there  has  been  a  science  of  mind,  and  it  has 
made  considerable  progress  in  modern  times.  This  trea- 
tise is  professedly  an  endeavor  to  discover  the  powers  of 
the  mind  and  the  relations  between  them.  In  the  busi- 
ness of  life  and  the  intercourse  of  mankind,  one  man 
seeks  to  sway  his  neighbor  by  working  upon  what  he 
knows  of  the  motives  by  which  he  is  swayed. 

SECTION  VIII. 

RELATION  OF  CAUSE  AND  EFFECT. 

Causation  may  be  consiilered  Objectively  and  Subjec- 
tively. Under  the  former  aspect  we  regard  it  as  acting 
independently  of  our  observation  or  any  observation  of 
it.  A  spark  will  kindle  gunpowder  whether  we  notice  it 
or  not.  Under  the  latter  we  contemplate  the  mind  look- 
ing at  it ;  or,  in  other  words,  we  inquire  what  is  the  na- 
ture of  the  exercise  or  power  which  discovers  the  relation. 

(1.)  Causation  Objective.  —  Much  remains  to  be  set- 
tled as  to  what  causation  is.  How  does  force  stand  re- 
lated to  cause  ?  How  aic  properties  related  to  cause, 
when  it  is  said  that  mind  and  matter  are  known  by 
their  properties  ?  What  is  the  dijference  between  power 
in  mind  and  power  in  matter?  Some  points  seem  to  me 
to  be  determined,  and  these  may  in  the  end  determine 
the  others. 


RELATION   OF   CAUSE  AND   EFFECT.  223 

First,  there  is  an  energy  in  all  physical  nature.  It  is 
acknowledged  that  there  is  a  Conservation  of  Energy 
—  Spencer  calls  it  Persistence  of  Force.  Physicists  dis- 
tinguish between  Potential  and  Real  Energy  —  (Aris- 
totle's distinction  between  Si'i-a/xis  and  iyepyeia.^  The 
former  cannot  be  increased  or  diminished  by  any  mun- 
dane agencv, — by  any  power  but  that  of  God  to  whom 
in  the  end  all  power  belongeth.  All  the  physical  forces, 
mechanical,  chemical,  electric,  magnetic, —  some  think  the 
vital  also,  —  are  correlated  and  can  be  transmuted  into 
one  another,  so  much  chemical  and  electric  power  being 
an  equivalent  of  so  much  mechanical  energy.  This  power 
is  always  in  body,  but  may  be  transferred  from  body  to 
body  according  to  the  capacities  of  the  body.  Thus  a 
ball  A  in  motion  strikes  a  ball  B  at  rest,  and  the  power 
in  A  is  transferred  to  B,  which  moves  while  A  now  rests. 
It  should  be  observed  that  while  the  amount  of  energy  in 
each  body  has  changed,  the  whole  amount  of  energy  con- 
tinues the  same.  I  believe  the  capacity  for  energy  in  the 
body  also  continues  the  same,  and  it  is  possible  to  reverse 
the  action  and  make  B  in  motion  strike  A  at  rest  and 
transfer  its  motion  to  it.  Every  body  has  a  certain  capac- 
ity (SiWyuts)  for  receiving  this  power  ;  and  this  power, 
in  exercise,  constitutes  the  properties  of  the  body ;  its 
gravitating,  chemical,  electric,  magnetic,  and,  it  may  be, 
vital,  properties. 

As  to  mental  properties,  —  say  intelligence,  emotion, 
moral  approbation,  will,  —  there  is  no  reason  to  believe 
that  they  are  correlated  with  physical  powers.  It  is  the 
office  of  psychology  to  determine  their  nature,  their  ex- 
tent, and  their  limits.  In  doing  this  it  labors  under  the 
disadvantage  of  not  having  a  precise  standard  of  measure- 
ment as  nn^clianics  have  in  foot-pounds  ;  but  it  has  a 
counteracting  advantage  in  the  acts  being  under  the  im- 
mediate coo^nizance  of  the  consciousness. 


224  CLASSIFICATION  OF  RELATIONS. 

Secondl3%  another  important  point  has  been  established. 
John  S.  Mill  has  shown  that  there  ^re  always  two  or 
more  agents  in  a  cause  (physical).  We  are  accustomed 
to  say  that  this  plant  was  killed  by  the  frost.  But  there 
is  more  embraced  in  the  cause  than  the  frost,  that  is, 
tlian  the  low  state  of  the  atmosphere  ;  that  agency  alone 
would  not  have  produced  the  effect.  In  the  cause  we 
have  to  include  tlie  state  of  the  plant.  The  frost  might 
not  have  destroyed  the  plant  if  it  had  not  been  tender. 
The  low  temperature  and  the  tenderness  of  the  plant  to- 
gether constitute  the  cause  and  were  necessary  to  cause  the 
effect.  Carrying  out  the  same  views  a  step  farther,  I  have 
been  endeavoring  to  show  that  not  only  is  there  a  duality 
or  plurality  in  the  cause,  there  is  the  same  in  the  effect. 
There  is  a  change  in  the  plant,  but  there  is  also  a  change 
produced,  difficult  to  measure,  in  the  temperature  of  the 
atmosphere.  It  is  the  same  in  all  cases,  two  or  more 
agents  acting  as  the  cause  and  the  same  agents  changed 
in  the  effect.  A  ball  A  strikes  a  ball  B,  both  balls  act, 
and  both  balls  are  acted  on  and  are  changed,  the  one 
losing  momentum,  the  other  gaining  it.  There  is  thus  a 
most  complicated  agency  in  causation  and  a  like  compli- 
cation in  effectuation.  How  numerous  the  agencies  pro- 
ducing any  given  historical  event !  On  the  supposition 
that  the  wolf  suckled  Romulus,  we  may  trace  the  influ- 
ence on  the  whole  history  of  the  Roman  people.  Cer- 
tainl}'^  the  character  of  Knox  has  so  far  influenced  the 
Scottish  character  in  all  later  ages.  The  Puritan  char- 
act<"r  of  the  seventeenth  century  and  the  Pilgrim  Fathers, 
modified  by  very  different  influences,  has  helped  to  mould 
the  people  of  New  England. 

In  the  common  explanations  one  of  the  agents,  the 
more  prominent  one,  or  that  supposed  to  be  the  main 
one,  is  spoken  of  as  the  cause.    The  others  are  described 


RELATION  OF   CAUSE  AND  EFFECT.  225 

as  the  conditions  or  the  occasions  —  it  was  on  the  occasion 
of  this  man  being  exposed  to  cold  that  he  caught  fever 
and  died.  We  commonly  look  only  to  one  part  of  the 
complex  consequence,  the  one  most  prominent  or  the 
one  expected,  as  the  effect,  and  we  call  the  others  inci- 
dents or  concomitants.  We  say  that  the  flood  refreshed 
the  gi'ound,  but  incidentally  or  accidentally  it  also 
drowned  a  certain  person.  But,  rigidly  speaking,  there 
is  no  chance  in  what  is  occurring,  no  accident  in  what 
has  taken  place.  All  the  agents  acting  are  to  be  in- 
cluded in  the  cause,  and  are  also  to  be  seen  in  the  effect. 
They  constitute  the  invariable  antecedent  which  has 
produced  the  effect,  and  which  when  it  recurs  will  for- 
ever produce  the  effect.  The  same  effect  precisely  will 
follow  when  they  are  all  present. 

Cause  and  effect  do  not  consist,  as  Hume  maintains, 
in  invai'iable  antecedence  and  consequence.  In  the  cause, 
that  is,  in  the  agents  forming  the  cause,  there  is  power, 
force,  or  energy  to  produce  the  effect.  It  is  not  the  in- 
variable antecedence  which  makes  the  cause,  but  the 
cause  which  makes  the  invariable  antecedence. 

All  power,  we  have  seen,  resides  in  a  substance  (p.  79). 
Let  us  suppose,  as  we  have  done  (p.  223),  that  every  sub- 
stance is  endowed  with  its  own  capacity  or  property ; 
then,  the  substances  continuing  the  same,  there  must  al- 
ways be  the  same  amount  of  energy  in  the  world,  —  a 
conservation  of  energy,  a  persistence  of  force,  as  it  is 
called.  The  grand  doctrine  of  our  day,  of  the  conserva- 
tion of  energy,  seems  to  follow  from  these  principles. 

Causation  Suhjecfive.  —  This  falls  under  Psychology. 
This  relation,  like  every  other,  throws  us  back  on  our 
primitive  cognitions.  We  know  mind  by  self-conscious- 
ness and  body  by  sense-perception,  as  possessing  power 
to  produce  an  effect.     Our  earliest  knowledge  of  mind 

15 


226  CLASSIFICATION   OF   RELATIONS. 

and  our  earliest  knowledge  of  matter  is  thus  associated 
with  efficiency.  Herbert  Spencer  may  be  right  in  rep- 
resenting force  as  the  most  essential  quality  of  body  as 
made  known  to  us.  It  is  certainly  known  as  early  and 
directly  as  extension,  commonly  regarded,  and  I  believe 
justly,  as  one  of  the  essential  qualities  of  body.  It  may 
be  by  resistance,  that  is,  force  from  a  surface,  that  exten- 
sion is  first  made  known  to  us  by  the  touch  and  by  the 
rods  in  the  eye.  Power  is  more  fully  revealed  to  us  in 
the  exercise  of  mental  properties  and  we  regard  it  as  an 
essential  quality  of  mind. 

We  trace  everything  that  occurs  to  a  power  in  a  sub- 
stance pioducing  it.  This  is  a  primitive  perception. 
It  is  self-evident,  evident  in  the  thing  itself  as  we  know 
it.  It  is  necessary  ;  we  cannot  be  made  to  tliink  or  be- 
lieve otherwise.  It  is  a  universal  perception.  Children 
act  upon  the  conviction  as  soon  as  they  begin  to  act  in- 
telligently ;  th^y  follow  the  light  which  they  find  pro- 
duces the  pleasant  impression  on  their  eye.  Savages, 
even  the  lowest  in  the  scale,  act  upon  it,  and  expect  the 
same  effect  to  follow  the  same  cause.  Not  that  they  are 
able,  like  a  metaphysician,  to  enunciate  the  law,  but 
upon  the  bare  inspection  of  the  object  before  them,  they 
form  a  decision  and  act  upon  it. 

It  is  after  careful  introspection  and  reflection  that  we 
are  able  to  detect  the  precise  nature  of  the  law  and  to 
formulate  it.  The  law  is  not,  as  most  people,  who  have 
not  thought  much  on  the  subject,  are  disposed  to  say, 
that  everything  has  a  cause.  If  this  were  tiie  law,  there 
would  be  no  first  cause,  and  we  would  require  to  seek  for 
a  cause  of  God  himself.  Our  primary  knowledge  of 
power  is  of  a  new  thing  produced.  We  instinctively 
seek  for  a  cause  only  for  a  new  object  or  a  new  mani- 
festation of  an  old  object.     The  true  expression  of  the 


RELATION  OF  CAUSE  AND  EFFECT.        227 

law  is  that  "  whatever  begins  to  be  has  a  cause."  This 
is  to  our  minds  a  fundamental  law  at  the  basis  of  all 
action. 

While  our  primary  conviction  as  to  cause  and  effect 
is  intuitive,  yet  much  of  the  knowledge  Avhich  we  have 
of  actuul  causes  and  effects  is  the  result  of  a  gathered 
induction.  It  is  only  by  careful  observation  that  we 
know  the  nature  of  particular  jjowers,  such  as  gravi- 
tation, chemical  affinity,  electricity.  It  is  by  careful 
weighing  and  measuring  that  we  know  wliat  are  the 
powers  in  any  one  bodily  object,  say  what  is  its  weight, 
or  its  chemical  affinity  towards  any  other  body.  But 
believing  that  every  material  object  has  power  we  are 
prompted  to  find  what  are  the  extent  and  the  limits  of 
that  power.  We  see  that  intuitive  conviction,  so  far 
from  restricting  experimental  investigation  or  rendering 
it  unnecessary,  is  the  main  means  of  inducing  us  to  en- 
gage in  it ;  for  while  it  does  not  reveal  the  cause,  it  con- 
strains us  to  believe  that  there  is  a  cause,  which  we  there- 
fore inquire  after. 

It  should  be  noticed  that  the  belief  in  the  relation  of 
cause  and  effect  is  not  the  same  as  the  belief  in  the  uni- 
formity of  nature.  These  two  have  often  been  con- 
founded. Though  connected,  they  are  essentially  dif- 
ferent. The  former  is  intuitive  and  universal,  the  latter 
is  a  discovery  of  science  and  is  rot  universally  believed 
in.  The  child  and  the  savage  always  look  for  a  cause 
to  every  phenomenon  in  which  they  are  interested.  But 
they  have  no  special  faith  in  the  uniformity  of  nature. 
Till  lengthened  observation  —  till,  in  fact,  advanced  sci- 
ence—  teaclies  them,  they  are  quite  ready  to  believe  that 
nature,  so  far  from  being  under  law,  is  acted  on  by  vari- 
ous supernatural  agencies,  and  is  under  agencies  always 
ncting  causally,  but  in  no  rigid  order.      It  is  only  as 


228  CLASSIFICATION   OF  RELATIONS. 

people  advance  in  knowledge  that  they  discover  that 
all  events  obey  laws  narrower  or  wider.  It  is  only 
■within  the  last  few  ages  that  the  uniformity  of  nature 
has  been  established  as  a  scientific  truth. 

But  we  have  here  to  do  not  with  the  uniformity  of 
nature,  but  with  causation  as  a  law  of  mind.  According 
to  the  account  given  above  causation  is  always  in  objects, 
material  or  mental,  all  of  which  possess  power.  As  there 
is  reality  in  objects,  material  and  mental,  there  is  reality 
in  the  powers  and  in  their  causal  relation  by  means  of 
these  powers.  The  cause  of  a  known  effect  is  not  super- 
induced upon  the  objects  by  the  mind  (as  Kant  holds) ; 
it  is  perceived  as  in  the  objects  and  in  the  nature  of  the 
objects.  We  are  thus  in  a  real  world  not  only  in  regard 
to  objects,  but  in  regard  to  all  their  action,  which  is  in- 
deed an  essential  part  of  their  nature.  These  coal  strata 
which  we  see  in  the  earth  are  a  reality,  and  we  argue 
from  them  that  the  deposited  plants  which  formed  them 
millions  of  years  ago  are  also  realities.  By  a  like  rea- 
soning process,  as  we  discover  these  adaptations  in  the 
eye  and  ear  so  wonderful,  we  seek  for  a  cause  which  is 
also  real  in  the  designing  mind  of  the  living  and  true 
God. 

But  while  all  this  is  true,  there  may  be  limitations  to 
the  truth.  We  know  power  to  be  both  in  mind  and 
body  and  in  their  very  nature.  But  it  does  not  follow 
that  every  act  is  one  of  causation  and  necessary  causa- 
tion. As  a  matter  of  fact  we  have  a  peculiar  conscious- 
ness as  to  acts  of  the  will  when  we  choose  this,  and 
reject  that;  when,  for  example,  we  resist  the  evil  and 
choose  the  good.  Because  we  believe  in  a  cause  be- 
hind every  other  action  of  body  and  mind  I  am  not 
sure  that  we  are  required  to  seek  for  a  causal  power 
behind   these  free   acts   of  the  will,   or  at  least  that 


RELATION   OF  CAUSE   AND  EFFECT.  229 

this  causal  power  is  of  the  same  kind  as  operates  so 
sternly  in  every  other  part  of  nature.  There  may  be  an 
outlet  here  for  free  will  in  perfect  consistency  with  the 
universal  prevalence  of  causation  in  all  other  parts  of  na- 
ture, including  all  other  mental  states,  intellectual  and 
emotional.  I  do  not  claim  that  in  this  way  we  can  clear 
up  all  the  mystery  which  broods  like  a  cloud  over  the 
point  at  which  free  will  and  causation  meet.  But  we 
have  shown  that  there  is  a  place  where  free  will  may 
act  in  perfect  consistency  with  all  that  we  know  of  causa- 
tion ;  thus  allowing  our  consciousness  to  give  its  testi- 
mony in  favor  of  free  will  without  interfering  with  the 
dicta  of  any  other  part  of  our  nature.  The  subject  will 
be  resumed  when  we  come  to  speak  of  the  Will  in  a 
subsequent  volume. 


CHAPTER    III. 

THE   DISCURSIVE   OPERATIONS.- 

By  these  we  proceed  from  something  given  or  allowed 
to  something  else  derived  from  it  by  the  simple  exercises 
of  thought  directed  to  the  objects.  They  are  commonly 
represented  as  being  Simple  Apprehension,  Judgment, 
and  Reasoning.  These  are  all  performed  by  the  Com- 
parative Powers,  specially  by  three  of  them :  the  faculties 
which  discovei"  the  relations  of  Identity,  Comprehension, 
and  Resemblance. 

(1.)  Simple  Ajyjjrehension,  the  product  of  which  is 
the  Notion.  —  There  arc  three  kinds  of  Notions :  the 
Singular,  the  Abstract,  :tnd  the  General  (Concept).  The 
Singular  Notion  is  given  us  originally  by  the  Simple  Cog- 
nitive Faculties  of  Sense-Perception  and  Self-Conscious- 
ness. Upon  this  we  may  perform  discursive  processes 
nnd  still  keep  it  singular.  Thus  "Socrates"  is  a  singu- 
lar term,  which  we  are  enabled  to  apprehend  because  we 
know  ourselves  by  the  two  original  inlets  of  knowledge. 
"  This  man  "  is  also  a  singular  term,  though  we  have 
performed  an  intellectual  process  and  referred  the  indi- 
vidual to  the  class  Man.  In  the  Singular  Notion  there 
is  no  exercise  of  the  Comparative  Powers.  It  comes 
into  Logic  simply  among  the  things  given  or  allowed, 
and  not  among  the  processes.  The  Abstract  Notion  is 
formed  by  what  we  may  call  the  power  of  Comprehen- 
sion ;  it  is  the  notion  of  an  9,ttribute.      The  General 


THE  DISCURSIVE   OPERATIONS.  231 

Notion  or  Concept  is  the  product  of  the  faculty  of  Re- 
semblance ;  it  is  the  Notion  of  objects  joined  by  their 
possessing  common  attributes. 

(2.)  Judgment.  —  In  this  we  compare  Notions  with 
the  view  of  declaring  their  jigrei  m^nt  or  disagreement 
in  a  proposition,  affirmative  or  negative.  Our  judgments 
proceed  on  our  notions,  and  our  singuhir  notions  carry 
us  back  to  our  primitive  cognitions  <ind  beliefs,  and  our 
abstract  and  general  notions  in)ply  previous  acts  of  com- 
parison, involving  previous  cognitions  or  ideas.  Our 
judgments  passed  on  notiims  h;ive  thus  a  reference  to 
tilings  or  imaginations  formed  out  of  things.  Our  judg- 
ments may  be  of  three  kinds.  They  may  declare  an 
Identity, — as  when  we  say,  "  Metaphysics  is  the  science 
of  First  Principles ;  "  "  Logic  is  the  science  of  the  Laws 
of  Discursive  Thought."  Or  they  may  be  judgments  of 
Comprehension,  —  as  when  we  say,  "The  dog  barks," 
where  we  make  barking  an  altrilmte  of  the  dog.  Or  it 
may  be  one  of  Extension,  that  is,  of  Classes  or  General 
Notions  ;  thus  we  may  interpret  the  last  example  as 
meaning  "  dogs  are  in  the  class  of  burking  animals." 

(3.)  Reasoning.  —  It  is  acknowledged  that  this  is  a 
form  of  Judgment  in  which  wc  have  three  notions  in- 
stead of  two,  and  compare  two  nntions  by  means  of  a 
third.  "  The  New  Zealander,  as  he  has  the  power  of 
speech,  is  a  man."  Here  we  compare  "New  Zealander" 
and  "  man  "  by  means  of  possessing  the  power  of  speech. 
We  have  already  seen  that  the  piin(;i|ile  of  identity  reg- 
ulates many  of  our  ratiocinations.  (See  pp.  213-215.) 
So  far  as  reasoning  in  Extension —  the  reasoning  treated 
in  the  common  logical  treati.-es  —  is  concerned  the  prin- 
ciple of  resemblance  is  involved  —  the  resemblance  of  tho 
objects  in  the  concepts.  "  This  horse  being  a  mammal 
is  warm-blooded."     Here  we  place  "  liorse  "  in  the  class 

•.-9 


232  THE  COMPARATIVE  POWERS. 

Mammal,  and  therefore  in  the  class  of  warm-blooded 
animals.  There  may  also  be  reasoning  in  Comprehen- 
sion, in  which  we  look  to  the  attribute,  —  as  when  we  say 
"this  man,  having  intelligence,  conscience,  and  free  will, 
is  responsible ; "  where  it  is  argued  that,  the  attributes 
of  intelligence,  conscience  and  freedom  involving  respon- 
sibility, man  as  possessing  these  must  be  responsible. 
Reasoning  in  Comprehension  may  always  be  translated 
into  reasoning  in  Extension. 

Logic  does  not,  every  one  now  acknowledges,  give  us 
the  power  of  reasoning  or  discursive  thought ;  it  simply 
expounds  the  process  involved.  We  think  and  reason 
spontaneously,  then  reflect  upon  what  has  passed  in  our 
minds,  and  may  express  the  operation  in  formal  laws.  It 
follows  that  if  we  have  given  the  proper  account  of  the 
logical  laws  we  have  unfolded  the  laws  of  our  ordinary 
processes  of  thinking  from  day  to  day  in  the  common 
affairs  of  life.  Every  man  is  exercising  continually  the 
faculties  which  have  just  passed  under  our  notice,  and 
what  psychology  does  is  to  unfold  the  nature  of  these 
faculties ;  while  it  is  the  function  of  logic  to  formulate 
them  into  laws  by  which  we  may  test  discursive  thought, 
may  justify  the  truth  and  expose  the  error. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

INTUITION  IN  THE   DISCOVERY   OF   RELATIONS. 

I  HAVE  been  showing  in  this  woik  that  there  is  intui- 
tion, that  is,  the  immediate  perception  of  objects,  both 
by  the  senses  and  self-consciousness.  According  to  the 
school  of  Kant  there  is  no  other  intuition  than  that  of 
sense,  external  and  internal,  and  all  beyond  is  subjective 
and  formed  by  the  mind.  It  is  a  curious  circumstance 
that,  according  to  Locke,  there  is  no  intuition  of  sense, 
there  is  only  one  of  judgment ;  that  is,  the  perception  of 
the  immediate  agreement  or  disagreement  of  our  ideas. 
(Essay,  B.  IV.  c.  11.)  I  regard  both  these  views  as  so  far 
erroneous. 

We  have  intuition  of  body  without  and  self  within. 
Put  this  is  not,  as  Kant  holds,  of  mere  phenomena  in  the 
sense  of  appearances,  but  of  things ;  of  body  as  extended 
and  resisting  energy  and  of  self  as  thinking  or  feeling  in 
some  particular  mode.  But  there  is  also  a  sense,  and  an 
important  one,  in  which  we  have  also  an  intuition  of  rela- 
tions. We  first  perceive  things  and  then  also  the  relation 
of  things,  and  some  of  these  may  be  known  by  intuition. 
We  know  matter  as  existing,  but  we  also  know,  and  this 
directly,  that  it  has  relation  to  other  things  known,  that 
it  is  in  space,  and  that  there  is  causation  in  its  action. 
We  also  know  mind  as  existing,  and  we  know  it  to  have 
being,  potency,  spirituality,  thinking,  and  relations  to 
things. 


234  THE  COMPARATIVE  POWERS. 

Most  important  consequences  follow.  "We  not  only- 
know  things,  such  as  body  and  mind,  but  things  perceived 
in  them  and  in  relation  to  them,  to  be  realities ;  and  both 
alike  realities.  We  know  mind  as  having  extension, 
and  we  know  mind  as  thinking,  say  as  contemplating 
extension,  and  we  know  the  one  as  well  as  the  other 
with  immediate  certainty.  I  hold  that  as  the  things 
are  real  so  the  relations  in  the  things  are  also  real.  In 
holding  this  doctrine  we  save  ourselves  at  once  from  the 
idealism  of  Locke  and  the  a  priori  forms  of  Kant.  They 
are  in  error  who  hold  that  all  knowledge  is  relative,  that 
is,  only  of  the  relations  of  things  themselves  unknown ; 
and  they  are  equally  in  error  who  affirm  that  relations 
are  forms  added  to  things  by  the  mind.  The  relations 
are  in  the  things,  and  are  as  real  as  the  things,  only  with 
a  somewhat  different  kind  of  reality,  a  sort  of  dependent 
realit)'-  in  the  things.  True,  we  only  know  individual 
things  by  the  senses,  but  we  know  by  contemplating 
them  that  they  have  relations.  In  this  way  we  reach  a 
realism  according  to  which  the  mind  knows  things  and 
their  connections. 


CHAPTER  V. 

GENERAL  REMARKS   ON  THE   COMPARATIVE   POWERS. 

I.  These  Faculties  are  in  all  men ;  not  merely  in  cer- 
tain individuals,  times,  or  nations,  but  the  properties  of 
humanity.  They  are  found  in  a  rudimentaiy  condition 
in  children  and  in  idiots,  in  the  former  to  be  developed. 
Madmen  often  display  them  in  an  intense  form. 

II.  They  constitute  the  highest  of  the  intellectual 
powers ;  I  may  show  that  the  moral  are  higher.  They 
carry  us  out  the  farthest  and  they  raise  us  up  the  higli- 
est.  They  enable  us  to  connect  all  things  we  know  with 
one  another,  and  they  take  us  as  far  out  as  the  connec- 
tions reach.  Thus  causation  takes  us  as  far  back  as  the 
millions  of  geological  ages,  and  as  far  forward  as  the 
causes  now  in  operation  go,  —  show  us,  for  instance,  that 
this  world  is  to  be  burned  with  fire. 

III.  In  their  exercise  they  have  risen  very  much 
above  the  senses,  and  the  need  of  the  cooperation  of 
the  senses,  and  of  the  bodily  frame  generally.  True, 
they  have  been  dependent  on  these  for  the  materials  on 
which  they  have  to  pronounce  a  judgment,  but  the  judg- 
ments themselves  are  purely  mental.  Hence  we  often 
find  that  in  old  age,  when  the  senses,  the  memory,  and 
the  informing  faculties  are  breaking  down,  the  judgment 
is  as  sound  as  ever  and  fails  only  when  a  proper  state- 
ment of  facts  is  not  given  it. 

IV.  They  have  all  a  tendency  to  operate  and  seek  out 


236  THE  COMPARATIVE  POWERS. 

for  the  appropriate  objects,  allured  by  the  numerous 
relations  which  may  be  discovered  in  them.  Thus  we 
have  pleasure  in  finding  an  essential  sameness  in  the 
midst  of  minor  diversities.  We  love  to  visit  a  locality 
with  which  we  were  familiar  in  former  days,  and  to  trace 
the  identity  in  the  hills  and  valleys,  so  changed  in  the 
houses  upon  them  and  the  people  dwelling  in  them. 
We  are  interested  in  the  lights  and  shadows  of  the 
landscapes  and  the  varying  aspects  of  the  sea  and  sky. 
We  set  ourselves  keenly  to  detect  an  old  friend  whom 
age  has  changed.  We  analyze  the  bodies  in  nature  and 
seek  to  solve  the  difficult  problems  in  science  and  phi- 
losophy. We  love  to  resolve  a  complex  whole  into  its 
component  parts,  and  to  understand  thereby  the  whole 
of  which  they  form  a  part ;  and  we  feel  as  if  we  know  a 
thing  only  when  we  are  acquainted  with  its  constitu- 
ents. We  delight  to  trace  the  likenesses  among  objects, 
and  to  discover  the  analogies  between  things  often  far 
removed  from  each  other,  and  which  bind  in  a  unity  all 
parts  of  nature  and  of  history.  We  find  it  pleasant,  as 
well  as  profitable,  to  observe  how  plants  and  animals  are 
after  a  type;  how  the  hea-venly  bodies  move  m  like 
curves,  elliptical  or  spiral ;  and  how  occurrences,  his- 
torical and  cosmic,  move  on  in  epochs.  The  idea  was 
anticipated  by  Pythagoras,  and  has  been  established  in 
modern  times,  that  physical  laws,  such  as  gravity  and 
chemical  affinity,  take  a  quantitative  expression.  We 
like  to  see  activity  in  the  breeze,  in  the  running  stream, 
in  the  leaping  cataract,  in  the  rippled  ocean  ;  in  the  per- 
petual motion  and  prattle  of  boys  and  girls,  in  the  con- 
tests of  wit,  and  the  Demosthenic  torrent  of  eloquence. 
All  lofty  minds  delight  to  follow  effect  to  cause,  and 
cause  to  prior  cause,  on  to  the  great  originating  Cause 
from  whom  all  things  proceed. 


GENERAL  REMARKS   ON  THE   COMPARATIVE  POWERS.      237 

V.  Our  comparative  faculties  are  admirably  suited  to 
the  state  of  things  in  which  we  are  placed.  I  can  con- 
ceive of  a  world  in  which  there  is  no  such  adaptation  ;  in 
which  the  relations  which  we  are  inclined  to  notice  have 
no  correspondences  in  what  falls  under  our  eye.  There 
might  thus  have  been  an  inscription  without  the  means 
of  deciphering  it,  or  a  writing  without  an  interjjietation. 
But  we  find  instead  that  we  live  in  a  world  in  which 
there  is  a  beautiful  harmony  between  the  eye  that  looks 
and  the  forms  and  colors  which  it  gazes  on.  We  feel 
security  in  falling  back  with  the  Eleatics  from  the  phe- 
nomenal variations  revealed  by  the  senses,  upon  the  per- 
manent TO  6V,  revealed  to  the  intellect  as  a  voovfxevov^  and 
having  a  correspondence  in  the  permanent  mind  and  the 
conservation  of  energy  in  matter.  Our  analytic  propen- 
sity is  rewarded  in  discovering  that  complexities  can  be 
resolved  into  their  elements.  Our  inclination  to  gener- 
alize is  encouraged  by  finding  that  organic  objects  can  be 
arranged  into  species,  orders,  and  kingdoms.  We  rejoice 
when  in  accordance  with  our  anticipations  we  find  all 
nature  conformed  to  laws  of  time,  figure,  and  proportion. 
We  are  moved  by  the  movements  of  nature  in  heaven 
above  and  the  earth  beneath,  in  the  rapidity  of  molecules 
and  the  quickness  of  thought.  We  pursue  eagerly  one 
act  to  a  previous  one,  and  are  stayed  only  when  we  rest 
on  one  unchangeable  substance.  The  consequence  of 
all  this  is  that  instead  of  being  strangers,  wanderers, 
or  outcasts  in  the  world  in  which  we  are  placed,  w^e  are, 
as  it  were,  among  friends,  with  a  Friend  who  is  the  bond 
of  union  among  them  all. 

yi.  There  is  a  correspondence  between  the  subjective 
and  objective  worlds,  between  the  thinking  mind  and  the 
objects  it  is  called  to  think  on.  This  does  not  arise,  as 
the  ancient  Eleatics   and   modern   pantheists   maintain, 


238  THE  COMPARATIVE   POWERS. 

from  the  unity  of  thought  and  being ;  for  we  have  as 
clear  proof  of  the  difference  of  mind  and  matter  as  we 
have  of  their  connection.  Nor  can  it  spring  solely  or 
even  mainly  from  the  two  having  acted  on  each  other 
for  indefinite  ages  and  become  adjusted,  —  as  Herbert 
Spencer  accounts  for  their  relation.  No  doubt  their 
connection  may  have  influenced  both:  thus,  the  contem- 
plation of  the  action  of  matter  by  mind  may  have  cre- 
ated tendencies  in  mind  ;  but  to  produce  this  fruit  there 
must  have  been  an  original  marriage  union.  In  an- 
other department  of  nature  we  are  prepared  to  acknowl- 
edge that  the  rays  of  light  have  not  produced  the  eye, 
nor  the  eye  the  rays  of  light,  though  they  have  so  far 
brought  each  other  into  conformity;  so  neither  does  the 
subjective  mind  create  objective  matter,  nor  objective 
matter  create  the  properties  of  mind.  We  are  thus 
driven  to  the  conclusion  that  there  must  have  been  a 
foreordained  conformity  between  them.  We  have  thus 
the  true  doctrine  of  preestablished  harmony  between 
mind  and  body,  of  which  Leibnitz  had  after  all  only  im- 
perfect glimpses;  not  a  liarmony  of  the  two  acting  apart, 
but  of  the  one  acting  upon  and  with  the  other. 

VII.  We  have  seen  that  tliere  is  an  intimate  connection  between 
our  associations  and  the  discovery  of  relations,  and  have  illustrated 
this  by  Resemblance  and  Contrast  (pp.  147,  148).  But  the  remark 
holds  true  of  all  relations.  For  every  relation  discovered  there  is  a 
ground,  and  this  may  become  the  bond  of  an  association  which  strength- 
ens and  enlarojes  that  of  conticjuity.  (1.)  On  seeing  a  man  in  one  dress 
to-day  we  tliink  of  him  in  the  other  dress  in  which  we  saw  him  yester- 
day, the  man  himself  being  the  same  in  both.  (2.)  On  the  leg  of  a 
table  being  seen  by  us  the  idea  of  the  whole  table  is  apt  to  come  up. 
(3.)  We  have  already  discussed  resemblance.  (4.)  Certain  relations 
of  triangles  suggest  other  relations  to  the  mathematician,  also  of  trian- 
gles. Stratford  and  Shakespeare  suggest  each  other,  because  of  the 
birth  there  of  the  great  poet.  (5.)  The  year  1790  is  apt  to  bring  up 
both  the  French  and  American  revolutions,  in  both  there  being  a  rev- 


GENERAL  REMARKS   ON   THE  COMPARATIVE   POWERS.      239 

olution  about  the  same  time.  (6.)  The  proportions  of  one  figure  recall 
those  of  another.  (7.)  The  activity  of  some  one  thing,  such  as  hfe, 
calls  up  the  activity  of  other  things,  such  as  the  wind.  (8.)  The  view 
we  have  given  of  physical  causation,  that  it  consists  of  two  or  more 
agents  in  the  cause,  to  be  found  in  a  changed  state  in  the  effect,  ena- 
bles us  to  see  how  the  common  qualities  of  the  one  should  call  up  the 
other.  In  all  cases,  the  powers  in  the  substance  acting  in  the  effect 
suggest  the  powers  acting  in  the  cause,  it  may  be  with  their  adjuncts, 
and  vice  rersa. 

Associations  in  all  cases  imply  a  contiguity,  but  in  the  highest 
forms  correlative  Associations  are  strengthened  and  enlarged  by  the 
discovery  of  relations.  I  may  add  that  a  man's  intellectual  wealth 
is  large  in  proporlion  to  the  formed  coins  and  cut  diamonds  which  he 
has  laid  up  in  correlations.  Without  many  and  varied  connections 
there  can  be  no  readiness  or  comprehensiveness  of  memory,  such  as 
is  to  be  found  in  our  greater  men.  With  such  accumulated  riches 
a  man  is  ready  to  expend  bounty  of  thought  wherever  he  goes. 

VIII.  The  Comparative  Faculties  differ  widely  in  the 
case  of  different  individuals.  This  may  arise  from  the 
intensity  of  the  origuial  cognition,  or  the  strength  of  the 
comparative  faculty ;  from  one  or  from  both.  In  some 
cases  it  looks  as  if  it  were  the  original  impression,  —  say  of 
form,  or  color,  or  incident,  which  is  so  keen  that  it  pene- 
trates into  us.  In  other  cases  it  looks  as  if  it  were  a 
strong  intellectual  energy  seeking  for  relations. 

It  is  evident  that  there  are  native  tastes  and  talents. 
The  two  commonly  go  together,  the  taste  calling  the  tal- 
ent into  exercise,  and  the  talent  forming  and  evoking  the 
taste,  and  both  seeking  out  fitting  objects.  When  these 
are  very  marked  they  commonly  determine  the  decision 
of  the  youth  as  to  his  pursuits,  —  his  vocation,  his  busi- 
ness, his  profession,  his  literary  or  scientific  studies.  It 
is  true  that  circumstances  often  have  a  swaying  influence 
—  in  fact,  compel  a  settlement.  But  in  most  youths  of 
any  force  of  character  there  is  a  natural  ability  or  incli- 
nation which  selects  his  life  for  him,  and  this  frequently 


240  THE   COMPARATIVE  POWERS. 

not  in  concurrence  with  outward  position,  but  in  opposi- 
tion to  it.  If  a  man,  for  instance,  has  a  taste  for  some 
particular  pursuit,  he  will  be  found  pursuing  it  in  his 
vacant  hours  when  obliged  to  engage  habitually  in  far 
different  work.  How  often  is  the  merchant  or  lawyer 
longing  for  a  leisure  day  or  week  to  enable  him  to  exam- 
ine the  forms  of  plants,  and  rushing  forth  whenever  the 
pressure  of  business  allows  into  the  midst  of  the  beauties 
of  nature  ?  How  often  does  the  minister  of  religion,  busy 
for  most  of  the  week  in  caring  for  his  flock,  find  an  idle 
day  or  evening  in  which  to  pursue  philosophic  specula- 
tion ? 

It  is  thus  clear  that  one  man  may  have  a  strong  tend- 
ency to  observe  one  kind  of  relation  and  another  a  differ- 
ent kind.  It  is  always  to  be  remembered,  however,  that 
the  same  natural  talent  may  be  exercised  on  different  ob- 
jects, and  it  is  here  that  external  circumstances  may  have 
a  modifying  influence.  It  may  be  mere  accident  which 
determines  a  man  with  a  certain  taste  to  betake  himself 
to  the  study  of  plants  or  animals,  or  to  painting  or  sculp- 
ture. It  is  also  to  be  borne  in  mind  that  some  pursuits 
require  the  exercise  of  more  than  one  faculty,  and  it  is 
only  when  there  is  the  necessary  combination  that  the 
qualification  for  the  particular  work  is  secured.  But 
making  the  needful  allowances,  it  will  be  found  that,  while 
in  a  few  there  is  a  universal  ability,  and  in  the  great 
body  of  mankind  there  is  a  moderate  degree  of  various 
talents,  in  some  there  are  peculiar  gifts  which  will  and 
ought  to  find  congenial  pursuits  and  thus  determine  their 
destiny.  It  is  a  most  happy  thing  when  a  youth  comes 
to  know  what  are  his  peculiar  qualifications,  and  is  ena- 
bled to  put  them  to  proper  use.  It  is  a  blessed  thing 
when  a  man  with  marked  endowments  is  led  to  conse- 
crate th^m  to  a  high  end. 


GENERAL  REMARKS   ON  THE  COMPARATIVE   POWERS.      241 

IX.  All  the  relations  enumerated,  with  one  exception, 
are  to  be  found  in  mental  as  well  as  in  material  objects. 
That  one  is  the  relation  of  Space  ;  we  cannot  correlate 
by  it  our  ideas  and  emotions.  We  arrange  bodies  ac- 
cording to  type,  but  we  cannot  thus  distribute  or  even 
conceive  of  our  mental  states.  The  reason  is  obvious  ; 
consciousness  as  a  faculty  of  intuitive  cognition  does  not 
make  known  to  us  our  mental  states  as  occupying  space, 
and  as  extension  does  not  appear  in  the  primitive  knowl- 
edge, so  it  does  not  reappear  in  the  discovery  of  relations. 
This  might  be  urged  as  an  argument  of  some  force  in 
favor  of  the  immateriality  of  the  soul ;  we  cannot  con- 
ceive mental  as  we  do  physical  facts,  under  spatial 
relations. 

X.  I  need  not  dwell,  at  the  close,  on  the  means  of 
training  the  powers,  for  I  have  been  illustrating  them 
throughout.  It  is  enough  to  exhort  every  young  man 
to  let  none  of  these  intellectual  faculties  lie  dormant,  or 
yield  to  the  temptation  to  satisfy  himself  with  sensa- 
tions, feelings,  and  passions. 


20 


CONCLUSION. 

EISE   OF   OUR   IDEAS. 

We  have  traced  the  powers  of  intelligence  from  the 
lowest  to  the  highest,  and  have  shown  how  our  cognitions 
and  ideas  arise.  From  every  separate  faculty,  as  they 
have  been  arranged,  we  get  one  or  more  of  these. 

We  receive  knowledge,  probably  our  primary,  from 
the  senses.  We  thus  come  to  know  body  and  its  modifi- 
cations, especially  its  essential  qualities.  Extension  and 
Resisting  Force.     We  thus  get  our  idea  of  Space. 

A  large  school,  the  Sensationalists,  maintain  that  we 
get  all  our  ideas  from  Sensation.  This  is  a  fundamental 
mistake.  We  have  other  and  higher  sources  of  knowl- 
edge. 

We  get  cognitions  and  ideas  from  Self-Consciousness  ; 
the  knowledge  of  Self  in  its  many  and  varied  modes  as  I 
have  been  endeavoring  to  unfold  them,  as  knowledge, 
conscience,  feeling,  and  will.  It  is  true  that  a  full  and 
distinct  knowledge  of  Self,  of  the  Ego,  is  a  late  acquisi- 
tion, but  from  birth  there  is  a  knowledge  of  self  in  all 
our  acts. 

Locke  held  that  we  get  all  our  ideas  from  Sensa- 
tion and  Reflection.  This  is  likewise  a  mistake.  From 
these  two  we  get  our  ideas  of  Existing  Things,  bodily 
and  spiritual.  But  in  the  exercise  of  the  powers  as  we 
contemplate  things,  we  get  other  ideas  ;  such  as  the  idea 
of  Time,  when  we  reflect  on  the  past,  and  the  Infinite, 


EISE  OF   OUR   IDEAS.  243 

as  we  go  out  in  thought  and  conceive  more  and  more, 
and  yet  are  sure  that  we  have  not  come  to  the  end,  and 
that  what  we  thus  believe  in  is  Perfect,  and  nothing  can 
be  added  to  it.  In  these  exercises,  Faith  is  at  work  from 
the  beginning,  and  we  have  a  conviction  of  the  reality  of 
things  not  perceived  by  the  senses,  external  or  internal. 

By  Comparison  we  discover  the  Relations  of  Things, 
discover  a  universal  interdependence,  and  extend  our 
knowledge,  indefinitely,  upward,  and  downward,  and  all 
around,  and  still  are  among  realities. 

When  Ave  come  to  speak  of  the  Motive  Powers,  we 
may  show  that  we  get  other  ideas  from  them  :  as  Good 
and  Evil,  and  Obligation  (the  Imperative)  from  Con- 
science, the  Lovely  and  Unlovely  from  Emotions,  and 
Choice  and  Freedom  from  the  Will. 

The  scattered  rays  may  combine  to  form  the  pure 
white  light,  that  is,  the  idea  of  the  all  powerful  and 
good  God. 

Rise  of  Ideas  in  the  Minds  of  Children.  —  A  number  of  able  men  in 
various  counlries  are  engaged  in  this  investigation,  and  have  given  us 
some  interesting  results  —  only  they  may  find  some  deeper  ideas  in 
the  mind  than  they  have  yet  brought  out  to  view.  It  is  evident  that, 
while  some  acts  of  new-born  babes  are  simply  reflex  or  instinctive, 
—  the  result  of  heredity,  —  the  cognitive  powers  begin  to  work  from 
the  time  of  birth,  if  they  do  not,  as  I  think,  work  before. 

We  give  some  statements  from  Darwin's  "Biographical  Sketch  of 
an  Infant."  The  infant's  eyes  were  fixed  on  a  candle  as  early  as  the 
ninth  day.  Long  before  he  was  forty  days  old  he  could  move  his 
hands  to  his  own  mouth.  When  nearly  four  months  old,  and  per- 
haps much  earlier,  from  the  manner  in  which  the  blood  rushed  into 
his  face,  it  was  evident  that  he  easily  got  into  a  violent  passion ;  when 
forty-five  days  old  he  was  observed  to  smile.  After  more  than  a  year 
he  spontaneously  exhibited  affection  by  kissing  his  nurse.  At  the 
age  of  six  months  and  eleven  days  he  showed  sympathy  by  his  mel- 
ancholy face  when  his  nurse  pretended  to  cry.  When  four  and  one 
half  months  old  he  smiled  at  his  image  in  a  mirror,  and  in  two  months 


244  CONCLUSION. 

more  knew  what  the  mirror  was.  Before  he  was  a  year  old  he  un- 
derstood intonations  and  gestures,  as  well  as  several  words  and  short 
sentences.  F.  H.  Champneys  ("Mind,"  Vol.  VI.)  speaks  of  an  in- 
fant. His  eyes  were  fixed  on  a  candle  when  he  was  a  week  old.  On 
the  fourteenth  day  he  took  notice  of  persons  and  moving  objects. 
Smiling  was  reported  at  five  and  one  half  weeks  ;  tears,  two  days 
before  the  end  of  the  fourteenth  week.  Professor  Stanly  Hall  is 
engaged  in  important  inquiries  as  to  the  knowledge  and  ignorance 
of  children  at  school  age. 

Some  ideas,  it  is  evident,  cannot  rise  till  there  is  a 
gathering  of  experience,  and  until  relations  have  been 
discovered  between  things.  Comparison  cannot  work  till 
there  are  things  known  to  compare.  But  within  a  short 
time  after  birth  the  intuitive  principle  of  cause  and  effect 
seems  to  work,  and  the  infant  anticipates  the  return  of 
the  pleasant  light  that  so  attracted  it.  There  can  be 
little  associative  power  exercised  till  ideas  have  come  up 
according  to  the  associations  of  contiguity  and  correlation  ; 
and  infants,  in  consequence,  have  little  control  over  their 
trains  of  thought.  Children  have  no  knowledge,  origi- 
nally, of  distance,  but  come  to  grasp  at  objects  in  less  than 
a  year  from  their  birth.  A  pleasure  from  the  perception 
of  beauty  of  colors  appears  in  children  as  soon  as  they  ap- 
prehend objects,  and  gradually  rises  to  higher  forms.  In 
childhood,  and  onward,  as  soon  as  objects  are  appre- 
hended, there  is  a  seeking  for  connections.  Will,  as  ii 
natural  gift,  operates  like  intellect,  from  birth,  but  at 
first  there  is  little  knowledge  of  objects  on  which  to  work. 
The  use  of  signs  in  thinking  is  found  in  children  long  be- 
fore they  are  a  year  old,  as,  for  instance,  the  sound  of  a 
bell  announcing  that  supper  is  ready.  I  believe  that  even 
the  mature  man  cannot  form  an  adequate  idea  of  infinity, 
but  I  agree  with  such  profound  thinkers  as  Anselm,  Des- 
cartes, and  Leibnitz,  in  thinking  that  all  have  it  in  tlie 
germ.     I  think  I  have  perceived  it  budding  in  children 


RISE   OF   OUR  IDEAS.  245 

of  two  years,  —  the  mind  is  ever  stretching  beyond  the 
now  and  the  present.  I  remember  distinctly  of  musing, 
when  under  twelve  years,  on  the  mysteries  involved, 
and  losing  myself  not  unpleasantly  in  the  contemplation. 
Moral  perceptions  cannot  appear  till  there  is  a  knowl- 
edge of  other  beings  to  whom  we  owe  duties  ;  but  con- 
science and  affection  come  forth,  of  course  in  a  low  form, 
before  the  intelligent  child  has  completed  his  first  year. 
The  dim  idea  of  a  power  beyond  the  visible  appears  be- 
fore school  age,  and  may  be  exalted  by  teaching  to  a 
belief  in  gods  or  in  one  God. 

It  may  have  been  observed  that  throughout  this  work 
it  has  been  loosely  applied  that  at  the  basis  of  the  opera- 
tion of  all  the  faculties  there  are  fundamental  truths. 
The  tests  of  these  can  be  given.  They  are,  first,  Self- 
Evidence,  or  evidence  seen  at  once  in  the  very  thing. 
Secondly,  as  following  from  the  first,  there  is  Neces- 
sity ;  we  cannot  be  made  to  think  or  believe  otherwise. 
Thirdly,  and  confirmatory  of  the  other  two,  there  is 
Catholicity,  or  universal  consent.  The  exposition  of  these 
carries  us  beyond  Inductive  Psychology  into  Metaphys- 
ics, or  the  Science  of  First  Principles.^ 

^  These  principles  are  unfolded  in  my  work  on  The  Intuitions 
OF  THE  Mind  inductively  investigated. 


14  DAY  USE 

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